story3459.xml
Title
story3459.xml
Source
born-digital
Media Type
story
Date Entered
2002-09-11
911DA Story: Story
Just like our parents with the Kennedy assassination, ask anyone on this campus where they were the morning of Sept. 11, 2001, and they'll tell you down to the crack in the pavement on which they stood. For good reason; they were witnesses to history.
They'll tell you with whom who they stood by televisions as they watched a second plane hit a World Trade Center tower. They'll recount the horror of being one of millions to see those towers crumbling to the ground, live, and a towering inferno overtaking the Pentagon.
Not me, though. While the rest of the world was being turned on its ear, I was pecking away at a computer in a solitary room with 12 total strangers.
I was taking the Graduate Record Exam.
Two weeks before the attacks, I flew to Tallahassee from my home state of Connecticut to look at Florida State University's graduate film program. I've had a long-time dream of making movies, and I knew film school could be a major step toward making that dream a reality. I had nothing to lose; that spring, I was a victim of the dot-com implosion when my company, zUniversity.com in Stamford, Conn., laid off 120 of their 140 workers. My future was wide open, and I was sure film was the direction it was headed. Before I left, I called the GRE Test Service to schedule a test appointment. The woman said she could fit me in 8 a.m. on Tuesday, Sept. 11.
I said no problem.
Early that morning, I got up and drove along the shoreline on I-95, just like so many Connecticut residents who drive every morning to work in New York City. I arrived in Norwalk, Connecticut's sixth largest city with 83,000 people, to take the test.
While I was taking it, something was wrong. At about 9 a.m., the Jamaican woman administering the test looked flustered. As I sat before my computer, she sat behind her glass window, fidgeting, nervous. I took a bathroom break and passed by her, but while she looked scared, she said nothing.
When I finished, I signed out and finally asked her if something was wrong. She closed the testing room door behind me, pointed to the radio, almost crying, and said, "The sky is falling." I listened in horror as newsmen described it; planes had flown into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, and a fourth plane had been hijacked and was flying east toward Washington.
My first reaction was to go to New York City, but all train service to and from the city had been shut down. So I left Norwalk, a city that would later learn it lost seven of its 83,000 residents, to go home. I drove back up the shoreline on I-95, wondering if I had actually passed by any victims a few hours earlier. And I spent the next few days, like so many others, making sure my friends were OK. Thankfully, they all were, including one who walked off the subway for work just after the first World Trade tower fell, and another who lived a few miles from the Pentagon.
After the attacks, I really questioned if now was the right time to go back to school. Weren't there more important things I could be doing? Should I join the Army and help fight the spineless bastards who carried this out? Should I settle down in a steady job and find a woman to marry? Maybe this movie dream of mine needed to go on the back burner, I thought, so I could deal with our new reality.
And I know I wasn't the only young person reconsidering their future plans.
What should we do? How will our generation's defining event define us? We've had a year to process the attacks and evaluate what is truly important in our lives.
So what should we do?
If you ask me, it's simple. We'll do the same thing those 3,000 Americans did the morning they lost their lives: whatever the hell we want to do.
If we want to partake in the experiment of capitalism, we'll work in business. If we want to help steer the course of our country, we'll work in government or the military. If we believe our mission is to help and serve the public, we'll work as firemen or policemen.
And our paths can follow many more roads than those associated with 9/11. If we think education is our calling, we'll become teachers and help develop the next generation of American minds. If our interests lie in science or technology, we'll follow that interest and lead the world to new discoveries. If our love lies in the arts (like mine in film), we'll be creative and show, through our particular passions, the depth and range of the human experience. We can go any of these ways, or countless others.
As young people, we've got our future in front of us, a canvas that can be painted any way we choose. While we work toward starting our own lives, we have two choices: we can ignore our freedoms and live in fear of the future, or we can embrace them and walk confidently toward tomorrow.
The horror of one year ago is that innocent lives were lost at the hands of those who don't believe in freedom. But its ultimate outcome can be something beautiful if we continue to practice the freedoms our country provides. That will guarantee our nation's loss will not have been in vain.
But what a monumental loss it has been. Make no mistake, guys, we are at war. We are fighting against the forces of terrorism, hate and fear, and may be doing so for a long time. But if you see me on campus, I won't be scared; I'll be smiling. Even though I'll be carrying a camera on my shoulder instead of a gun, I'll be doing my part to see we come out victorious.
Remember: We're in college, and we have the chance to prepare ourselves for whatever path in life we've dreamed of.
And if we fearlessly follow our dreams, we've already won.
They'll tell you with whom who they stood by televisions as they watched a second plane hit a World Trade Center tower. They'll recount the horror of being one of millions to see those towers crumbling to the ground, live, and a towering inferno overtaking the Pentagon.
Not me, though. While the rest of the world was being turned on its ear, I was pecking away at a computer in a solitary room with 12 total strangers.
I was taking the Graduate Record Exam.
Two weeks before the attacks, I flew to Tallahassee from my home state of Connecticut to look at Florida State University's graduate film program. I've had a long-time dream of making movies, and I knew film school could be a major step toward making that dream a reality. I had nothing to lose; that spring, I was a victim of the dot-com implosion when my company, zUniversity.com in Stamford, Conn., laid off 120 of their 140 workers. My future was wide open, and I was sure film was the direction it was headed. Before I left, I called the GRE Test Service to schedule a test appointment. The woman said she could fit me in 8 a.m. on Tuesday, Sept. 11.
I said no problem.
Early that morning, I got up and drove along the shoreline on I-95, just like so many Connecticut residents who drive every morning to work in New York City. I arrived in Norwalk, Connecticut's sixth largest city with 83,000 people, to take the test.
While I was taking it, something was wrong. At about 9 a.m., the Jamaican woman administering the test looked flustered. As I sat before my computer, she sat behind her glass window, fidgeting, nervous. I took a bathroom break and passed by her, but while she looked scared, she said nothing.
When I finished, I signed out and finally asked her if something was wrong. She closed the testing room door behind me, pointed to the radio, almost crying, and said, "The sky is falling." I listened in horror as newsmen described it; planes had flown into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, and a fourth plane had been hijacked and was flying east toward Washington.
My first reaction was to go to New York City, but all train service to and from the city had been shut down. So I left Norwalk, a city that would later learn it lost seven of its 83,000 residents, to go home. I drove back up the shoreline on I-95, wondering if I had actually passed by any victims a few hours earlier. And I spent the next few days, like so many others, making sure my friends were OK. Thankfully, they all were, including one who walked off the subway for work just after the first World Trade tower fell, and another who lived a few miles from the Pentagon.
After the attacks, I really questioned if now was the right time to go back to school. Weren't there more important things I could be doing? Should I join the Army and help fight the spineless bastards who carried this out? Should I settle down in a steady job and find a woman to marry? Maybe this movie dream of mine needed to go on the back burner, I thought, so I could deal with our new reality.
And I know I wasn't the only young person reconsidering their future plans.
What should we do? How will our generation's defining event define us? We've had a year to process the attacks and evaluate what is truly important in our lives.
So what should we do?
If you ask me, it's simple. We'll do the same thing those 3,000 Americans did the morning they lost their lives: whatever the hell we want to do.
If we want to partake in the experiment of capitalism, we'll work in business. If we want to help steer the course of our country, we'll work in government or the military. If we believe our mission is to help and serve the public, we'll work as firemen or policemen.
And our paths can follow many more roads than those associated with 9/11. If we think education is our calling, we'll become teachers and help develop the next generation of American minds. If our interests lie in science or technology, we'll follow that interest and lead the world to new discoveries. If our love lies in the arts (like mine in film), we'll be creative and show, through our particular passions, the depth and range of the human experience. We can go any of these ways, or countless others.
As young people, we've got our future in front of us, a canvas that can be painted any way we choose. While we work toward starting our own lives, we have two choices: we can ignore our freedoms and live in fear of the future, or we can embrace them and walk confidently toward tomorrow.
The horror of one year ago is that innocent lives were lost at the hands of those who don't believe in freedom. But its ultimate outcome can be something beautiful if we continue to practice the freedoms our country provides. That will guarantee our nation's loss will not have been in vain.
But what a monumental loss it has been. Make no mistake, guys, we are at war. We are fighting against the forces of terrorism, hate and fear, and may be doing so for a long time. But if you see me on campus, I won't be scared; I'll be smiling. Even though I'll be carrying a camera on my shoulder instead of a gun, I'll be doing my part to see we come out victorious.
Remember: We're in college, and we have the chance to prepare ourselves for whatever path in life we've dreamed of.
And if we fearlessly follow our dreams, we've already won.
Collection
Citation
“story3459.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed December 21, 2025, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/12968.