story1679.xml

story1679.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-09-03

This editorial first appeared, as is, on September 13, 2001 in The Virginian-Pilot.



Will this horror make me grow up or make me cower?



I just watched the World Trade Center collapse. It crumbled as if it was a structure made of sand, blown down by a whisper of breath.

I saw footage of parts of the Pentagon go up in smoke, knowing my friends have relatives who work there.

At 10 a.m. Tuesday, I left my science class to use the restroom. When I walked in, a girl told me that the World Trade Center had been bombed. I didn't believe her at first.

When I got back to science, I told my teacher what I had heard, and we got online to see the news. We were shocked to read the report, which said the Pentagon had also been hit by a plane. I felt my insides shaking with disbelief.

I watched my own teacher cry. Tears filled his eyes as he spoke to me of his concern for his sister-in-law, a World Trade Center employee.

Teachers are leaders. Teachers are strong. And on Tuesday, I saw him as my emotional equal. I, too, cried for his sister-in-law.

I watched the near hysteria in my English class. Students called their parents to check up on their family members. One boy mentioned that his father worked at the Pentagon.

And then we got the news of the fourth plane.

I watched the looks of shock take over my classmates' faces as we learned of the crash in Pennsylvania.

It hadn't struck most of us that the previous attacks weren't isolated incidents.

I looked around the room. Some students had white faces, some held their heads in their hands, and others dropped their jaws to their desks. We realized then that this was serious. Reality finally hit us all.

After I got home from school, I watched a replay of the World Trade Center collapse. I had known for hours what had happened, but seeing it was completely different. It was hard to stop myself from vomiting on the spot.

The image of the trade center crashing down will never leave my mind.

Suddenly I realized that, although it's not official, we are involved in a war.

I was alive during Desert Storm, but not old enough to remember anything. Now, for the rest of my life, I will be a person who remembers this tragedy, although that word cannot truly describe this.

It may have appeared to crumble like sand blown down by a whisper of breath, but the Towers were crushed by the hand of evil and cold blood. I believe this to be a war.

People often say that war makes a young boy a man, a young girl a woman. Somehow this day has made me feel more like a child than I have ever felt.

I want my mom. I want my dad. I want this to be over.



Stephanie Goehring is a 16-year-old senior at Kempsville High School in Virginia Beach.