Date Submitted: 9/11/2017
I was 13 years old and had just started my 8th grade year in Kansas City. As the bell rang at the end of algebra class, my teacher just broke down crying at the board. Most students headed out in normal fashion, but a few of us stayed behind to ask her what was going on.
She mentioned that some planes had flown into buildings, but I didn't find out until a little later that those acts were intentional.
I remember walking to lunch hearing reports of a bomb exploding at the pentagon, but that nobody knew for sure.
We spent the rest of the afternoon glued to the television screens until our parents came to pick us up...most of whom just looked shocked and unsure of what to say.
Like so many others, I won't ever forget seeing those events play out on television, or forget those feelings of confusion, sadness, and fear.
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)