story4147.xml

story4147.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-09-11

On 9-11-01, I stood in front of about 18 6 and 7 year olds in our first grade classroom. An assistant came to my door and told me that we were not to take the kids out because of something that had happened in New York. That's all that was said. Our T.V.'s were not working, and my radio was not on, so I had no idea of what was happening. I called my husband, who works at a major banking firm here in town, and asked him if he knew what was going on. He couldn't talk, he said, because his building was on lock down. No one could come in, and no one could leave. My heart beat faster and faster by the second. All he told me was that the WTC had been attacked and that the Pentagon was on fire. It was all too much too fast for me. I looked on the internet just in time to see the first tower collapse. From that moment on, I was useless as a teacher. All I could do was think about the thousands of people that were in that building. It was like watching a movie. I was 4 months pregnant at the time, and crazy thoughts started racing through my mind. San Antonio has major bases, and would be prime target for terrorists. I had to take hold of myself for my students. They didn't have a clue as to what had happened, and I wasn't prepared to address it with them. We did eventually talk about it. The hardest question I had to answer was asked by one of my little boys. "If those bad people flew the plane into the buildings, then how did they get out?" All of a sudden I had to address not only death, terrorism, and hatred, but now suicide. Too much. Too much for me thousands of miles away. I could only pray for peace for the people that it affected in a more personal way. I still do. God Bless you all that have to deal with people missing out of your lives, and especially for the babies of 9-11, that now have to grow up without a parent. I hope that they will know one day about their parents, and how they did not die in vain.