I was 9 years old and in the 4th grade. Our French teacher, Mr. Rioux was teaching us about verbs when our principal came on the intercom to have us all say a prayer for those at the World Trade Center in New York and the Pentagon in Washington, DC. That was all we heard. We had a fire drill next. It was a chilly day right before fall.
After school, my grandmother picked me up, and she was listening to the radio and crying. I still didn't know what had happened to our country. "Some planes flew into the World Trade Center in New York." Still not understanding, I turned on the TV in our kitchen and finally witnessed the attack. The towers in New York were burning, and Dan Rather told us, "America is under attack; the skyline in New York City will be forever changed."
A million thoughts raced through my head. And then I witnessed the most horrific thing I've ever witnessed in my 36 years of life. A TV had been set up in the break room, and we all watched in horror as first one, then both Towers fell. I can't describe the sadness, the feeling was too intense to justify in words.
Jack (story excerpt)