story2463.xml

story2463.xml

born-digital

story

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2002-09-11

I first learned of the attacks on the World Trade Center at around 9:50 am, upon entering the hallway after my second period Biology class. All around me, I heard a tremendous human buzz, a cacophony of hushed terror. Droves of people walked about frantically, like ants, looking for their friends and crying out across the hall. For the first few minutes I was bewildered; passersby spoke rapidly of planes and explosions, but I caught only fragments of their hurried conversations. I made my way to my third period Art class. There, the TV was on. CNN replayed footage of Boeing 767s smashing into each of the twin towers.

The raucous humor that usually accompanied my Art class was mostly gone. A few people cracked mild jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood, but most watched the TV in dumb horror. No one did anything related to Art.

Within an hour, both towers had collapsed. By lunchtime, the Pentagon ad also been attacked, which stirred a new level of terror and uncertainty among the students. Would the White House be hit, or the Capitol building, or Camp David? What about our city of Lansing, home of General Motors, and a potential key player in the war industry? More importantly, how would President Bush respond? No one knew for sure what was to come. The rest of the school day proceeded slowly and tensely. Arab and Muslim students spoke nary a word, and many went home before school oficially ended.

As for many at my school, September 11 was the most turbulent day of my life thus far.