nmah6460.xml

nmah6460.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2004-03-08

My September 11th morning started while I was in my Junior year of college at Miami University in Oxford, Ohio. I was on the phone with my mom who was in Brighton, Michigan minutes before I walked to class and she answered her call-waiting. My aunt was the person on the other line and she had just called to say that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. My mom then hung up with her sister and passed the information on to me. It was unusual but at that point we didn't think much of it and I expected to see that a private plane had hit a building. After hanging up the phone I walked a couple of blocks to a media class that had a very large projector screen at the front of the room. During my trip to class the second plane had already hit the World Trade Center. I remember entering the classroom with my friend from a door in the back corner of the dimly lit room and looking directly at the huge screen displaying the two smoking sky scrapers followed by replays of each impact. It was truly unbelievable.

At that point our instructors did not realize the importance this event would have on the world and they turned off the CNN feed and began the lecture. By the time class was over and we turned the projector back to CNN, the Pentagon had been hit. This was the first time I heard the word "attack" related to September 11th, 2001.

I didn't go to the rest of my classes and huried home to find that none of my six housemates were home so I went next door to find an entire room of about a dozen friends gathered to quietly watch the television coverage. This was when I saw something that I will never forget as long as live. The cameras were filming men and women jumping to their deaths out of the World Trade Center buildings rather than be engulfed in flames. That was the first time I couldn't hold back my emotions and tears began just running down my cheeks. That single moment made me realize how severe the situation was. Up to that point everything was a blur except for that.

The next major memory was when the first tower fell. Bone-chilling disbelief. I watched people running for their lives through the streets of New York only steps in front of a dense cloud of smoke and debris as cameras continuously fed the us with images of our humanity and mortality. Then the second tower fell. I felt so helpless and immediately starting wondering if I knew anyone on those planes or in those buildings.

News anchors began estimating the body count but we couldn't fathom casualties of that magnitude. At that point it seemed like it would never stop. We were just hoping that the attack was over.

The Pentagon and Pennsylvania crashes didn't have the same overwhelming effect that the World Trade Center did. Those two just made me think that more were coming. I was so thankful that the White House was not damaged that day.

There are not many other specifics that I can recall. People bleeding and dying in the Manhatten streets, those burning towers, the collapsing buildings, hundreds of impact replays, and those poor people jumping to their deaths. It was so very wrong in every way. Watching those initial hours of television coverage with my friends is what I remember most. I finally left my friends' house and returned to my own home where I continued watching the television and wiping tears from my face. I didn't want to be alone and thankfully I didn't have to be. It was the worst day I have ever seen.

The days and weeks following the attack were very unique. It seemed like for the first time in a long time, we wanted to show our pride for our country. Almost every house and building in town was flying Old Glory and that was beautiful. I wish it was like that every day. It was the first time I saw so many individual Americans wanting to let the world know how strong we are and that we are United.

We immediately went out and bought two American flags. One hung on the front of our house and the other was hung outside of my second-story bedroom window over a popular alley for foot traffic. My feelings about the flag and America have both changed. I was born in 1980 and my generation has never had a World War or a Draft. The Persian Gulf conflict was the closest thing we have seen. We were young when that happened and it didn't seem to be too bad. We felt invincible. September 11th destroyed a false sense of security for my entire generation.