Where Were You?
It was a brisk autumn day in a small town in south-central Wisconsin. It was first period at our High School, I was in Driver’s Ed, in the simulator that sits outside of the school. At the end of class, we headed back inside to our classroom. Once we entered the room, we were bombarded with questions about planes. “Did you see?” “Did you hear?” “We’re under attack!” I was so confused. I thought someone was attacking our school. Until the teacher turned on the TV, and saw the horror that would forever live in our minds.
September 11, 2001. It was the day that America was hit in her heart, airplanes hijacked by terrorists from another country. Slammed them into our own buildings, killing our innocents. Even some unlucky passengers were brave enough to sacrifice themselves, crashing one of the planes before it reached it’s intended target.
One of my acquaintances, not really a friend but was on the basketball team with me, was hysterical because her brother was on one of the planes. Thank God, she found out a few hours later he had missed his flight. But, so many others did not miss their flight.
Today, I decided to remember this day, yet another of ours that will live in infamy. If you were old enough to know what was happening, you remember too. You remember where you were, what you were doing, what you thought. I think, even if you don’t live in the United States, you probably remember hearing about it, and being disgusted at the horror.
Where were you? What were you doing? On this day of infamy…