Where Were You?
I was in my high school pre-calculus class taking our first exam of the school year when a fellow student burst into the room and scurried to our teacher. My classmates and I listened to their concerned whispers and within minutes everyone felt a vague and ominous anxiety.
I spent the rest of the day in the school library watching the images over and over. I was feeling very thankful because I grew up in a suburb of DC and my father used to work for the government - many times doing work at the pentagon. I had a lot of friends that day crying in the hallways desperately trying to get in touch with their parents who still worked in DC.
Our school was on lock-down for a few frantic hours until we were released to our families.
Some things we take lightly in this forum. I’d really like it for this not to be one of those. 7 years ago, one of the greatest American tragedies took place. And although the politics and even the America that came out of those horrible events are debated and argued over, we owe it to the thousands of innocent people who lost their lives to remember them and live our lives with them in our hearts.
I was only 15 and in my tenth grade at my Jewish day school in Detroit, Michigan. We were actually having an event that day about the upcoming high holidays in which we were learning about repentance and judgement. When the principal announced to the gathered assembly what had occurred, I admit that I was among those that could not believe it. An entire tower? Now two? Just falling down? Impossible. And even though we said prayers for the dead and wounded, the back of my mind still harbored doubts.
It wasn’t until after the assembly when the tv’s were playing the news footage in the school lobby. The news just kept showing those same images over and over. You know the ones I’m talking about. My brain couldn’t even process what I was seeing. Although some of the kids went home, I figured I could feel no better there, and watching my mother cry would only make me feel worse.
I’d like to say that moment changed me, but like most other 15 year olds, life goes on. I didn’t know anyone in the towers. I had only been to New York a few times before those events. If I had been older or living here at the time I’m sure I would have felt differently. It’s not that I didn’t care. It’s that my life just wasn’t impacted the same way other people’s were.
Looking back, it’s easy to see the path that day set for our nation. It’s hard to imagine where we would be if those attacks hadn’t spurned wrath of America. Whether you agree with the aftermath or not, we would all be better off if it had never happened. And not because we wouldn’t be in Iraq. But because a mother could still be tucking in her daughter for bed and kissing her forehead. Because a father could still be hugging his son as he enters the door. Because families could still be together and not have to cry on each strangers’ shoulders. Because 3000 people had lives to live and people who loved them and now they’re gone.
Where were you?
I was at home. I logged onto the internet sometime that morning and my ex-girlfriend at the time IM’d me and told me to turn on the television. It was terrifying and all I could think about was how tall the skyscrapers in New York are (NY is a very tall city) and how hard it would be to tear them down. I kept thinking about the sheer number of people now dead or living in chaos… it was just horrifying trying to take it in all at once.
