I've been debating on posting this since yesterday morning, and finally decided to go through with it, so apologies if anyone feels it is inappropriate or pointless. Fact of the matter is, it lasts longer than a single day for me, so the sentiment is still the same.
Seven years ago yesterday, we're all old enough to remember that day. Most of us, if not all of us, are old enough to remember exactly what we were doing when it happened. I myself was sitting in Spanish class, thinking about a test we were supposed to have that day when the principal came in and told the teacher to turn on the TV.
Each year, I take a week aside of remembrance, putting all political and religious differences aside and think about what happened that day. Why do I do this? Because the adage holds true, "We will never forget."
In light of all this, I put aside any differences I have ever had with anyone, and I remember that we're all humans. I put aside my political differences and remember that we are all Americans, and that we all suffered that great loss.
Feel free to follow up with your thoughts in this thread, but be respectful. If you choose to make this thread your personal political battleground, I will not hesitate to reprimand you.
To those who were lost, we remember.
To those who lost, we remember.
To those who have endured, we remember.
To those who carry on; Remember.
It was a rather confusing day for me.
I was in 4th grade and sitting in class. Something seemed different. The teachers ran out and started talking to each other, and when we asked what was going on, they said nothing. My teacher turned on her TV but then immediately turned it off and left the class completely clueless.
Suddenly I was called down to the office to be checked out.
I tried asking questions but my mom was upset and rushed me home.
When she calmed down, after getting inside of our house, she turned on the TV and there it was.
I remember her explaining everything that was happening and as my eyes focused on the television behind her, tears just started pouring.
I was only 9 years old at the time, but the gravity of it was so strong, I guess I could say. I remember that day so vividly and everything else from there on out is a blur. It was like time stopped for me at that moment and time just seemed to speed up, rapidly.
In our drama class we're actually debating on doing a play called War at Home. It's based off of the events of 9/11 and has a cast of several diverse people going about their daily routine. Students in school. Mothers at home. People busy at work. And each person explains what they're feeling while the terrorist attacks were happening. It starts out with them, as I mentioned, going about their daily routine, and then the growing whispers of an attack, to the full out truth. The most powerful part is when a Muslim student is standing in the classroom, scared to death with judgmental eyes all locked onto the child.
It's so powerful and really made me think back to that day, 7 years ago.
Very appropriate, Ace. I'm glad you posted this.
I was 21 and on my way to work to what is now the Prime Sirloin(was the Western Steer at the time). I turned on the radio to listen to one of the morning shows. Instead of the laughing and comedy I normally heard, there was a subdued demeanor.
On the radio they talked about just receiving word that the second tower of the twin towers had indeed been hit. All I could think was that this was not an ordinary day....something big was happening. I remember getting reports all through the day about the rest of what happened. The towers collapsing and two other planes having been hijacked.
After work I remember I decided I would head over to my brother's home and see if I could find out more. On the way, the most visible memory I had was the price of gas being five and six dollars in some places. When I finally got to his place, we watched the news and by then they had explained what had happened, with the footage on tv.
It had only been around two years since the fears of Y2K had come and gone and now this. Though a horrible event, I knew it would be a piece of history, a big piece that I could personally remember.
Since then, I have always felt we should remember everyone that suffered, that lost someone, that died that day. Not just the two planes that crashed into the World Trade Center towers, but United 93 where the passengers fought back and kept the plane from reaching its target and the plane and passengers that crashed into the pentagon. All of those lost to us in all four crashes should be remembered.
I remember I was in Mr. Harris's Science class in 9th grade. We were in the middle of a test actually when we heard a commotion outside. One of the morning history classes just decided to watch the news that morning and the teacher ended up spreading the word to all the teachers... when it finally got to us, we just turned out tests in without finishing and stared in horror at the screen. We all ended up going home that day, and I remember the confusion in everyone's face. None of us were as happy as we would be on any normal day getting to go home so early.
I barley remember what i was doing that day, or what class i was in. All i can see in my memory of that day was the broadcast playing through my head over and over again. I guess the shock of it all made me forget the less important things of that day.
truly a sad day
I was in the cafeteria in high school gathering with the group of friends I always ate lunch with. One of the girls I didn't know well came up to us and told us the pentagon had just been attacked. I actually thought she was joking, and laughed a little in disbelief. Then with a very serious face she explained that she wasn't kidding.
Lunch was a blur, then I was in English class and we were watching the news. Our teacher refused to teach, very upset and paniced because a relative was in the trade center. There were several students trying to calm her down and comfort her, but to little avail. She even began talking of end of the world matters, completely disheaven.
The rest of the school day was a blur, but the next week was distraught. The radio played nothing but the latest news of the event, and it seemed like all channels were locked on to the crisis. It was all very frightening and confusing as pieces of the puzzle were trying to be put into place, and everyone mourned for the heavy losses of countless families and hoped for survivors.
It's something I won't be able to forget and wouldn't chose to forget. I feel all the families of the victims as well as the victims themselves should always be remembered.