story2120.xml

story2120.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-09-10

Five years ago, after being born and raised in NJ,I moved with my mother to North Carolina from our old home in Maplewood, NJ (which is just across the river from New York). My dad, however, continued to live in New Jersey (along with most of my relatives) and work in New York City. I flew into Newark Airport once every month to see him. I had just returned from a visit with my dad and our usual trip to the city...
I remember it well. That morning I was drawing sketches in my 10th grade art class at my high school. The principal came on the intercom and announced that a plane had just hit the first world trade center tower. Immediately thoughts of my family ran through my head. I thought of any of my relatives that might have worked in the twin towers. I thought of all those times I had been to the world trade center and how I was in New York City only like a week before. It was unbelievable. Our teacher turned on the T.V. and the images on the screen horrified me. I broke down crying in my classroom. I remembered that two of my cousins worked in the trade center and that my dad was probably getting off of work at that very moment. I was terrified because I did not know what was going on. I was scared of the thought of not knowing their fate. The possibilty of them being in those buildings frightened me. I ran out of the classroom shaking and crying and trying to understand how this could happen.
When I returned to the room, all my classmates were staring at me. They could not understand why I was so emotional about this. They did not know what was going through my head. When I would try to explain, I would start sobbing so much that my words were not easily understood. After I calmed down a bit, I asked my teacher if I could go to the office to contact someone, anyone who could put my fears to rest. But, she would not let me. She said that there would probably be a lot of students down there trying to contact their parents. This upset me so much. I told her I was going to the bathroom but instead I escaped to the main office. On my way, a counselor stopped me and ask if I was alright. I hesitated and did not know what exactly to say. I thought to myself, "no! I am not okay...I am terrified! Half, if not all, of my family lives in New Jersey and works in NYC! I do not even know where they are!" Instead of expressing these feelings, I simply answered yes and she then took me to the guidance office anyway. There a counselor took me outside to use her cell phone to call my dad. All the lines directed to New Jersey were busy. I could not get in touch with anyone.
The rest of the school day I tried to get my mind off of it. Friends tried to comfort me but I still felt upset. When I got home after school that day, I called my dad. I was relieved to find him at home. He had been asleep in his house in New Jersey all along. He was let off early from his night shift at the paper he worked at. He did not even know of the events until a few minutes before I had called him.
A few minutes later, I realized that my mom was in China and that she probably would not be able to call home or even get home for a long time. I then called my grandparents and they told me that everyone from my dad's side of the family was accounted for. Afterwards I talked with my other Grandma. She informed me that one of my cousins who worked in the trade center was in a meeting in another building and she was not in her office at all that day. She also told me that my other cousin was fine and he had gotten out of the trade center alright. It was hard to hear her say that she had never experienced, in all of her 80 years on this earth, anything like this before. She did not know how anybody could do anything of this magnitude. I then learned, from my step-dad, that my mom would be stuck in China for at least another week. I knew she would be apprehensive about flying home and I was worried about her getting on a plane. The rest of the day was as morbid as can be. I watched these intense events play out on the T.V. screen. I felt so depressed that I refused to do anything all night.
Only being 15 years old at the time,it was, and still is, hard to comprehend. The days following the attacks, I did everything that a person of my age could do to help out. A few months later, I visited the site. It was horrible and made me want to throw up. But I did not. I sucked it up and did what I had to do. The pain was still there and very real.
I will never forget that fateful day. I will never forget the emotions I felt. I never want to have to experience those feelings every again. The stories that I have heard from everyone have really affected me. My dad told me stories of friends who had talked to the people on the phone when the buildings were getting hit. The things that these people saw were real and unbelievable to hear about. Their reflections still bring tears to my eyes.
I hope that people will take my story and use it to see what the day was like for a teenager. I might have not been there but my heart was there and I was deeply affected by the events. And I thank God that everyone in my family was save from harm that day. I feel for those who were not so lucky.