I remember an ordinary day in 7th grade when I was in Spanish class passing a note to my best friend telling her about a boy I had a crush on. It was his birthday and I wanted to wish him a Happy Birthday... believe me, it was a pretty big deal. Spanish class wasn't my favorite class. I could never pay attention and it was right before lunch. This specific day, I was dying for an excuse to leave class early. I kept wishing the teacher would just give us a free period so I could tell this boy Happy Birthday. All of a sudden, Mrs. McCarthy, one of my other teachers, called our Spanish teacher out of the classroom. It looked like she had been crying and when my Spanish teacher came back into the classroom, she looked as white as a ghost. She grabbed her cell phone and ran out of the room.
I went to a small Catholic grammar school in Fairfield, CT. My whole grade consisted of 42 kids, so of course the rumors started spreading like wild fire. Out of nowhere, our principle was on the intercom telling everyone to head to the church. I didn’t think anything of it because my school always had us go to church for random things. I was just happy that I got my wish and our class was cancelled. I couldn't wait to wish my crush a Happy Birthday.
While my Spanish class was heading over to church I started to look around for Will, my big crush. As I was looking for him, I started to realize the atmosphere in the hallways. The teachers didn’t allow us to talk, they were all acting very serious and no one was answering any questions or even smiling. The teachers were whispering and some had been crying. The whole feeling around my school had turned into something dark. My grammar school was always a happy place, and very welcoming, but that day, I will never forget, something changed inside those walls. September 11th turned my jubilant school into a place of fear. I didn’t even know what was really happening, but I immediately felt a knot in my stomach and knew in my heart something was terribly wrong.
As we all went into the Church my friends whispered a rumor that maybe the pope had died, but I could just feel it wasn’t that. The priest came out and said words that I will forever hear in my memories. He said, “This will be a day we will never forget, and let us come together and seek that assurance in prayer for the souls and sacred memory of those who have been lost.” I knew something unimaginable had happened, and immediately wanted to go home. The priest spoke for about 10 minutes and then they told us our parents are here to pick us up. Right as I left church, I saw my mom frantically run to me. She told me my siblings were already in the car and that we needed to go home. She as well looked like she had been crying. I kept asking her what had happened, and she said she would explain when we arrived home.
I never had the chance to wish Will a happy birthday, and nor was it a “happy” day. Farifield, Connecticut, the town I grew up in, was and still is a HUGE commuter town that everyone I know has and still commutes into the city. My father was one of the commuters; however, even though my father was lucky enough to have had a business meeting in Texas, I still knew over 15 people who had lost someone that eerie day. When I got home, I remember watching the Twin Towers fall over and over and over again. No station on the TV had anything else on and every station continued to play the attack. I felt for the first time a feeling I never felt before. When I was little and when I would get scared, I would go into my room and hide underneath the covers. That’s where I felt safe, but on September 11th I couldn’t go anywhere to hide, because nowhere felt safe. I was living in a nightmare, and for the first time, I couldn’t wake up.
Today, when I think of September 11th, the feeling of that little girl comes back. The fear of that day stays within you and will never go away. People move on, and live there lives, but the horrifying realization of September 11th will always live within you, and that day will always be forever in your memories whether you want it to be or not...
September 11th is an example of how the media works. Every channel, or news broadcaster had it on. It kept replaying over and over and over again. Even the news tried to get as close as possible and they didn't even think that the towers would collapse. Not only was the events of September 11th being broadcasted on every news channels, anyone that was there video taped it or took pictures with there cellphones or with their personal camera and or video tape.This is a great example of Mass Communication. Today, you can look up "home videos" or in other words not professional videos of the towers collapsing. You get a real feel of the terror people went through because people have posted it on the web. I will never forget that day.
Interestingly enough, the second picture you posted is kind of symbolic to America as a Christian nation. If you look at it closely, the combination of the sunlight and the silhouettes of two towers resembles a cross. (I am not trying to say anything here, but I find this very peculiar, especially in this context.)
ReplyDeleteWell, not on a religious note, I too remember September 11 very well. I was a freshman in a High School located not too far from Hunter College. I remember being on gym class and hearing sirens. I mean A LOT of sirens of all kinds, police cars, fire engines, ambulances, etc. Throughout the whole period we where all wondering what was going on. Just like you my teachers wouldn't say anything. At first I didn't think it was that bad because they told us something vague like a building had collapsed, but as soon as I saw other kids and even teachers crying I knew it was bad. That day they let us out early, and nobody could come get me because the bridges into the city were closed, the trains where not working and I lived in Queens. After many hours of struggles I managed to find the one train that finally started working and went to my aunt's house. As soon as I walked in and saw the images of the burning towers in TV it all became clear to me. The mass media made it possible for everyone in America to see what was going on, and an explanation was no longer needed.
ReplyDeleteIt's emotional to hear the memories of people on September 11th because almost everyone remembers exactly who told them the news, where they were and even minute details they would normally forget. I remember I was in the 5th grade and our instructor told us to gather around in the back room, just like we did during readings. It was different this time because she brought boxes of tissues and placed them by us. She was crying and holding her cellphone as she told us about the attacks. I was in almost disbelief but her tears and the sudden tears of other students made it all too real. I am glad that we were given the support and company while the news was told to us. It made us all feel less alone as teachers across the country carefully broke the news to their students. I think it was an important goal for them to tell us the news but also in a way where we would still feel safe because they were there to comfort us. Rather than announcing such news over the PA system, each teacher addressed their students. I remember we just sat in the back of the room while each of us took turns talking about it and comforting each other. Although it was a horrible day, it brought out the hero in all of us. From the firefighters who risked their lives to save others to the teachers who comforted us, everyone was ready to help. Although it was a horrible day, there was a sense of unity among Americans. On my way home from school, people turned their televisions facing the windows people on the street were able to watch the news. I realized the importance of the news that day. It was the only thing people were focused on as they waited for more updates. When disaster struck, it was almost a reflex for us to turn on the news.
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