story8201.xml
Title
story8201.xml
Source
born-digital
Media Type
story
Date Entered
2002-09-30
911DA Story: Story
SEPTEMBER 11TH, 2001: A MASACRE OF INNONCENCE
9-11. Usually, when this is herad, people thing of the emergency contact number. I think of destruction, annihilation, and nationalism. Nothing more horrible could have happened on the morning of September 11th, 2002. Nothing more careless could have been infested in the terrorists upson each plane. Nothing could have prepared America for the devastation that occurred within just four hours of that Tuesday morning.
I remember sitting at my desk, my eyes still full of sleep and thinking about my plans for that day when the freshmen principle, Mr. Cassity, opened the door with a serious look on his face. he asked my English teacher, Mrs. Carner, to step out in the hallway for a moment. The class began wtih their daily gossip as we waited for Mrs. Carner to return. I was half asleep with my head on my desk when I heard the opening and soft, almost noiseless close of the door. I slowly opened my eyes and put my chin in my hands. She didn't say a word, but seemed overwhelmed and depressed. Everyone became dead silent when they looked at her. There was something wrong...something awful.
I don't really remember her not telling us about it right away, but that's what everyone else says. I guess she just went on with class as normal without informing us of the devastation. I guess she thought we couldn't handle it. I guess. It all happened so quickly
"Class, something terrible has happened htis morning. Mr. Cassity informed me that a plane has crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center." A long pause followed. No on speaking...we were barely even breathing. Of course this was an accident. It was a horrifying accident that shouldn't have happened. We continued with class not understanding what effects the following event of that day would bring. Mrs. Carner turned the television on for the last fifteen minutes of class and let us watch what was going on. The North Tower was in flamed and all you could hear was screaming and crying. Then it happened. On the right side of the screen, a plane flew towards the South Tower. It looked as if it was just flying by, but instead of seeing it go off the screen, I saw a huge explosion. At once, I knew this was no mishap. It was smoething more devious against the United States. As I looked at the faces around the room I knoticed that they all understood this, too. Tears formed in the eys that justm inutes before were almost asleep. A few minutes before the bell rang, another attack was accomplished. This time, a plane was directed into the Pentagon. What more could happen? Certainly there was a flying restriction and no more planes would crash and no more innocent lives would be taken.
Ms. Cottrell took role in second block and turned the television on. We all sat quietly, with the exception of a few sniffles, as the news coverage continued. I kept repeating over and over, "How could this happen?" It was official that it was a terrorist attack, but the question of who still remained. At around 10:10, the South Tower collapsed into a cloud of dust and debris. It was then that a fourth plane crashed. Luckily, yet unfortunately, this plane did not hit a building, only a field in the small town of Somerset, Pennsylvania. Thirty minutes later, the North Tower was demolished from top to bottom. It looked like a banana being peeled. Before the towers buckled, there were things falling from windows. These things were people, and they weren't falling, they were jumping.
My third class was Social Studies with Mr. Wilson so of course the news was on. He turned the volume down a little. He asked us to get a sheet of paper out and write down our feelings. I couldn't think of a place to start, so I just wrote down my thoughts as they were running through my mind. After this, he turned the volume back up, and during the coverage, we discussed what was going on. It had been announced that the suspect was a terrorist group led by Osama Bin Laden. A man who would become the most hated man in America.
In Spanish class, I guess the teacher was still in denial because we continued with notes and started on projects. She did postpone the quiz that was to be that day, understanding that we wouldn't be able to concentrate. It was a break for me though. It gave me time to think about what was going on rather than having to see it. The first time my thoughts were somewhat clear and I could breathe.
I rode the bus home that day. Normally, the little kids are screaming and everyone is talking, but it was silent. Eventhe kindergarteners seemed to know that something awful had happened. I slowly walked down the bus steps and took a deep breath outside. The bus drove off and I was left standing at the end of my driveway. Nature even seemed to understand. I couldn't hear a car driving in the neighborhood or a bird chirping. I looked around and felt blessed to be able to enjoy life. I walked up my driveway and to my front door. Unlocking the door, I stepped inside. No one else was home except me...alone, but alive.
After the September 11th tragedies, I wrote many poems. This one is the first one...
ALRIGHT
Mommy please don't be scared
Daddy don't worry I'll be alright
Brother why are you shedding those tears?
Sister you know I'll always be here.
What could happen while I'm gone?
Nothing will cause me any harm.
Please don't cry, I'll come home.
Don't you worry, nothing's wrong.
I'll call you when I get there
And I'll pray every night before bed.
I will come back to you soon
I will return before too long.
Now I'm off and on this flight
I hope everything will be alright
I've never been away from home
What's that they say on the speakerphone?
There's terrorists on this plane I ride?
Oh no, am I going to die?
Please Lord, keep me safe from harm
And let me stay so very calm
Two planes hit the two tall buildings
Neither of which could stay standing.
Thousands of people were taken that day
None of whom thought they'd die that
way
Though they might be gone and we cry
As Americans we still stand with pride
Yes we will mourn, but never forget
That the flag still waves through all
of this.
Mommy please don't be scared
Daddy don't worry I'll be alright
Brother why are shedding those tears
Sister you know I'll always be here.
9-11. Usually, when this is herad, people thing of the emergency contact number. I think of destruction, annihilation, and nationalism. Nothing more horrible could have happened on the morning of September 11th, 2002. Nothing more careless could have been infested in the terrorists upson each plane. Nothing could have prepared America for the devastation that occurred within just four hours of that Tuesday morning.
I remember sitting at my desk, my eyes still full of sleep and thinking about my plans for that day when the freshmen principle, Mr. Cassity, opened the door with a serious look on his face. he asked my English teacher, Mrs. Carner, to step out in the hallway for a moment. The class began wtih their daily gossip as we waited for Mrs. Carner to return. I was half asleep with my head on my desk when I heard the opening and soft, almost noiseless close of the door. I slowly opened my eyes and put my chin in my hands. She didn't say a word, but seemed overwhelmed and depressed. Everyone became dead silent when they looked at her. There was something wrong...something awful.
I don't really remember her not telling us about it right away, but that's what everyone else says. I guess she just went on with class as normal without informing us of the devastation. I guess she thought we couldn't handle it. I guess. It all happened so quickly
"Class, something terrible has happened htis morning. Mr. Cassity informed me that a plane has crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center." A long pause followed. No on speaking...we were barely even breathing. Of course this was an accident. It was a horrifying accident that shouldn't have happened. We continued with class not understanding what effects the following event of that day would bring. Mrs. Carner turned the television on for the last fifteen minutes of class and let us watch what was going on. The North Tower was in flamed and all you could hear was screaming and crying. Then it happened. On the right side of the screen, a plane flew towards the South Tower. It looked as if it was just flying by, but instead of seeing it go off the screen, I saw a huge explosion. At once, I knew this was no mishap. It was smoething more devious against the United States. As I looked at the faces around the room I knoticed that they all understood this, too. Tears formed in the eys that justm inutes before were almost asleep. A few minutes before the bell rang, another attack was accomplished. This time, a plane was directed into the Pentagon. What more could happen? Certainly there was a flying restriction and no more planes would crash and no more innocent lives would be taken.
Ms. Cottrell took role in second block and turned the television on. We all sat quietly, with the exception of a few sniffles, as the news coverage continued. I kept repeating over and over, "How could this happen?" It was official that it was a terrorist attack, but the question of who still remained. At around 10:10, the South Tower collapsed into a cloud of dust and debris. It was then that a fourth plane crashed. Luckily, yet unfortunately, this plane did not hit a building, only a field in the small town of Somerset, Pennsylvania. Thirty minutes later, the North Tower was demolished from top to bottom. It looked like a banana being peeled. Before the towers buckled, there were things falling from windows. These things were people, and they weren't falling, they were jumping.
My third class was Social Studies with Mr. Wilson so of course the news was on. He turned the volume down a little. He asked us to get a sheet of paper out and write down our feelings. I couldn't think of a place to start, so I just wrote down my thoughts as they were running through my mind. After this, he turned the volume back up, and during the coverage, we discussed what was going on. It had been announced that the suspect was a terrorist group led by Osama Bin Laden. A man who would become the most hated man in America.
In Spanish class, I guess the teacher was still in denial because we continued with notes and started on projects. She did postpone the quiz that was to be that day, understanding that we wouldn't be able to concentrate. It was a break for me though. It gave me time to think about what was going on rather than having to see it. The first time my thoughts were somewhat clear and I could breathe.
I rode the bus home that day. Normally, the little kids are screaming and everyone is talking, but it was silent. Eventhe kindergarteners seemed to know that something awful had happened. I slowly walked down the bus steps and took a deep breath outside. The bus drove off and I was left standing at the end of my driveway. Nature even seemed to understand. I couldn't hear a car driving in the neighborhood or a bird chirping. I looked around and felt blessed to be able to enjoy life. I walked up my driveway and to my front door. Unlocking the door, I stepped inside. No one else was home except me...alone, but alive.
After the September 11th tragedies, I wrote many poems. This one is the first one...
ALRIGHT
Mommy please don't be scared
Daddy don't worry I'll be alright
Brother why are you shedding those tears?
Sister you know I'll always be here.
What could happen while I'm gone?
Nothing will cause me any harm.
Please don't cry, I'll come home.
Don't you worry, nothing's wrong.
I'll call you when I get there
And I'll pray every night before bed.
I will come back to you soon
I will return before too long.
Now I'm off and on this flight
I hope everything will be alright
I've never been away from home
What's that they say on the speakerphone?
There's terrorists on this plane I ride?
Oh no, am I going to die?
Please Lord, keep me safe from harm
And let me stay so very calm
Two planes hit the two tall buildings
Neither of which could stay standing.
Thousands of people were taken that day
None of whom thought they'd die that
way
Though they might be gone and we cry
As Americans we still stand with pride
Yes we will mourn, but never forget
That the flag still waves through all
of this.
Mommy please don't be scared
Daddy don't worry I'll be alright
Brother why are shedding those tears
Sister you know I'll always be here.
Collection
Citation
“story8201.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed December 20, 2025, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/11860.