nmah6374.xml

nmah6374.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2003-11-26

I live in Western NJ by the Delaware and about an hour away from the city. I was 11 and in 6th grade. I remember in one of the morning periods a secretary coming into our honors math class and asking our teacher to come out into the hall. We didn't care. Just some time to goof off and talk with friends. Our teacher came back and we dashed back to our seats. Our teacher didn't yell at us, but I think I remember her saying we could have a free period for the remaining 10 minutes.
During Opportunity Period (40 min at the end of the day for students to see teachers and do HW) I asked my homeroom teacher if I could go to my social studies teacher to get a homework paper which I had lost. She said yes. I went and came back. My homeroom teacher walked over to me as I was packing up my stuff by my desk and handed me a puke green sheet of paper. She said something very vauge, but I knew this was something big. On the bus ride home I read the green sheet of paper. It was a letter from the main school counselor saying that there was always someone to talk to at our school about "the terroristic acts." I saved that sheet of paper and every once in awhile I look at it and remember how I held it in my 11 year old hands. Also while I was on the bus, I talked with friends. They thought maybe we wouldn't have school tomorrow.
When I stepped of the bus I saw my mom's blue Volvo. We talked as the tires hit the gravel and made a scratching sound until we were at the top of our driveway in less than 30 seconds. She told me, yet again vaugly, what had happened. She said my aunt, her sister, had gone on a plane to Mexico with her husband for her Wedding Anniversary. I hardly ever saw the aunt and didn't even know the differnce between her and my mom's other 2 sisters, but still, it scared me to know someone in my family may had died. I suddenly felt guilty for not seeing her more. As my mom and I walked into the house from the garage, I heard the TV on. I walked through the kitchen to the living room and saw my sister, who was then 15, and my dad. My dad was allowed to leave work early, and my sister's high school soccer practive was cancled. The next hours were mayhem. Actually, it may have been just a 1/2 hour, but it times like these everything seems much longer. My mom was continuously calling the Airlines trying to find out what place my aunt was on, as I learned who "Osoma Bin Laden" was. I asked my dad to tell me who this strange and ugly man was. He sushed me and continued to have his eyes glued to the TV. He tried to explain it to me but I didn't understand too much.
I also remember going outside with my dad. We live in "the country." We have farms but it's not totally in the sticks. We live in a new neighborhood, and in the town over there is a small airport. My dad showed me how there were no planes in the sky. "It's rare," he said. "You'll probobly never witness this again." There was alot I would never witness again that day.
Later, I was laying in the living room whining stupidly that some new hole puncher my mom got me that day wasn't working. My sister yelled at me told me I was selfish. Now, I know I was just stupid. I got mad and ran to my room and turned on my favorite radio staion NJ 101.5. There, they were talking about the event too. I didn't know what I wanted so I just switched the radio off. Silence.
At around 7, after we found out my aunt was on a plane that wasn't used as a weapon, my family was still glued to the tube as most people were during the next few weeks. We saw tapes of many things including people jumping out of buildings. My sister began to cry. My mom told me it was ok for me to cry. I didn't understand though. How could this happen? America was safe, buildings didn't crumble just because of some weird guy who had some of his weird buddies help him kill inoccent people. How was I supposed to cry when I didn't understand what was happening?
Later on in the night I went to bed. I couldn't sleep. I remember imagining terrorists crawling up the walls of our house like Spiderman. They could be anywhere! My parents told me I could sleep in their bed. I tried but couldn't. So I got some little Barbie radio I got for Christmas many years ago and listened to 101.5. I was still scared. Luckily, my parents came and calmed me down and told me terrorists would never come out to the "country" where they have farms. Still, what could stop them? I finally fell asleep that night in my parent's bed. The next day at school everyone was tired. We told stories in just one class for a small period of time. I wanted more time to know I wasn't the only one feeling scared. I needed to know what this whole thing was going to teach me and why it happened.

I've learned to be much more thankful after 9/11. I don't whine about the little things, and I thank people more often. Who knows who's going to be here tomorrow and who's not? I think much more now too. I even have changed little things like what I wish for when I blow candles out on a cake. I used to wish that my parents could get along and they wouldn't get divorced, but on October 24, 2001, my 12th birthday I wished for something that will help the world. Peace. I do that every year now.

I flew the flag after 9/11. I used to think of our beautiful flag as "just an object," but now I see it as much more than that. Our striped and starred flag is a sign of freedom. When I look at it I imagine the billions of Americans who look at everyday and know freedom.