story10721.xml
Title
story10721.xml
Source
born-digital
Media Type
story
Date Entered
2004-08-01
911DA Story: Story
Being from England, September 11th didn't have the effect on me it must have had on millions of Americans. However, it changed the world, and I hope adding my story of that day will show that.
Most people say Tuesday, September 11th, 2001, started like any other. Well, for me, it was a bit different. It was my first day back at College after the summer holidays. I was looking forward to seeing all my mates again, and having a laugh with them. I don't really remember exactly what I did at College, but I remember I finished early. Being the first day back, we didn't have the last lecture of the day, meaning I finished my shortened day with Film Studies. When this was over, I phoned my mother so she could come and pick me up. I remember waiting just up the road from the College, waiting for my mum to pick me up.
After a few minutes waiting, she turned up, and I got in the car. At this point, I had absolutley no idea about what was happening in New York. I kind of got the feeling something was up when my mum didn't greet me as usual in the car, but just said 'have you heard the news?'. Normally, I would have done. My main subject at College is media, and this involves a lot of time on the internet, so normally I would have known what was happening. However, having Film Studies last, I hadn't been online for some time, and therefore, didn't know the news.
My mum told me that two planes had crashed in to the World Trade Center in New York. Having never been to that part of America, I didn't know what they were by name, and it was only when she explained to me what the WTC was, did I start to understand the scale of this disaster. Being from a village in England, terrorism wasn't something really in my mind. However stupid, my first thoughts were 'two planes, thats a coincedence'. We had the radio on in the car, I think it was a local station. The adverts were on. I thought this obviously couldn't be as bad it sounded, or surely they would be talking about on there? Just as I thought that, the adverts stopped, and instead of the usual presenter, the independant news (who supply national news updates to local radio across England) were updating the latest news from America. That is when I first heard it was terrorism. I couldn't believe that people could do something like this. To be honest, when we arrived home, about 15 minutes after leaving College, I still didn't really know how bad it was. I didn't really know what was happening. All I knew was a big building in America had been hit by two planes in a terrorist attack, and there was possibly a third plane, heading for the Pentagon, and another one somewhere in the sky.
I walked quicker than normally to my front door, unlocked and opened it, and walked straight in to the living room, and turned the television on. Of course, the news had taken over every channel, so I decided to watch it on BBC1. They were showing any footage they had. When I sat down and watched what was happening, they showed images of the first tower on fire. Then, seconds later, a plane came in to shot. For a second, it went out of shot, behind the towers, and then a fireball ripped across the sky. I never really knew where the term 'my blood ran cold' came from. Now I do. I went so cold I couldn't believe it. Then, and only then, did I notice the breaking news bar at the bottom of the page. It read 'America Under Attack : Plane Hits The Pentagon'. I quickly turned down the volume, and shouted down to my mum, who had only just come in to the house. I said 'mum, did you say a plane had hit or was heading for the Pentagon'. She said one was heading for it, or they thought it was. I shouted down again 'One's hit it'.
From then on, the rest of the day was surreal. Obviously, with the time difference in England, it was quite a bit later in the day than it was in New York (I think it was about 1:00 here when the first plane hit). I sat, just staring at the television for the next couple of hours. My local football (soccer) team were playing that night. Normally it is the biggest part of my week, but tonight I didn't want to go. I decided that it would be better to get away from the TV for a bit, and go and get my mind off it. I have never been so wrong.
Before a match, I go to my mates house, we have a laugh, have a drink, go to the match, and have a laugh with more people there. Tonight was different. I went to my mates house, but we just sat and watched at the TV. We were so shocked we hardly spoke, watching images of the first tower collapsing. We then dragged ourselves off the match.
Not many others did. Unsurprisingly we had the lowest turn out for sometime, and when we lost, no body was bothered. We just wanted to get back to the news. We were cut off from the news...I think we all dreaded to find out more had happened while we had been out. I went home and sat in front of the television.
I didn't go to bed until late that night. Part of me didn't want to leave the television. Part of me didn't want to wake up in the morning not knowing what else had happened. Part of me was scared to go upstairs to my room. I don't know why...it sounds stupid now, that I didnt feel safe in a village in the English countryside, but that's how it was at the time.
I don't know what time it was when I went to bed, but it was late. I got up the next morning, and sat in front of the news again until it was time to go to College. It suddenely occured to me that the soccer match I was supposed to be watching on TV that night might be called off. It was only then I checked, and found out that the match I had been to the night before was one of the only ones actually played. It was then I realised how wide spread this disaster was, and how if would affect and change so much.
During my lunch break at College, I went to the newsagents and bought a copy of all the papers I could...some of my mates thought it was a bit sick, but I thought, and still think, it's important to keep a record of this for generations to follow us. I went back, and sat by myself. I read through every tragic, heartbreaking story, trying to get as good as an appreciation as I could of what had happened.
Life slowly got back to normal, and we could start to think of other things again. However, I still think about that tragic day a lot. I often read back through those newspapers from September 12th. On the one year anniversary I lit some candles to show my sadness and rememberance. It might not sound like much, but for me, it was all I could do.
One day, whenever it arrives, I want to visit the scene of the disaster, even if it's been replaced by something else. Even it's in 60 years, and the next generation can't appreciate what happened, I want to go to pay my own, private respects, to those innocent people who lost their lives that day.
So, those are my memories from that day, on a day when I cried for people I've never met, and prayed for a country I've only visited once.
Most people say Tuesday, September 11th, 2001, started like any other. Well, for me, it was a bit different. It was my first day back at College after the summer holidays. I was looking forward to seeing all my mates again, and having a laugh with them. I don't really remember exactly what I did at College, but I remember I finished early. Being the first day back, we didn't have the last lecture of the day, meaning I finished my shortened day with Film Studies. When this was over, I phoned my mother so she could come and pick me up. I remember waiting just up the road from the College, waiting for my mum to pick me up.
After a few minutes waiting, she turned up, and I got in the car. At this point, I had absolutley no idea about what was happening in New York. I kind of got the feeling something was up when my mum didn't greet me as usual in the car, but just said 'have you heard the news?'. Normally, I would have done. My main subject at College is media, and this involves a lot of time on the internet, so normally I would have known what was happening. However, having Film Studies last, I hadn't been online for some time, and therefore, didn't know the news.
My mum told me that two planes had crashed in to the World Trade Center in New York. Having never been to that part of America, I didn't know what they were by name, and it was only when she explained to me what the WTC was, did I start to understand the scale of this disaster. Being from a village in England, terrorism wasn't something really in my mind. However stupid, my first thoughts were 'two planes, thats a coincedence'. We had the radio on in the car, I think it was a local station. The adverts were on. I thought this obviously couldn't be as bad it sounded, or surely they would be talking about on there? Just as I thought that, the adverts stopped, and instead of the usual presenter, the independant news (who supply national news updates to local radio across England) were updating the latest news from America. That is when I first heard it was terrorism. I couldn't believe that people could do something like this. To be honest, when we arrived home, about 15 minutes after leaving College, I still didn't really know how bad it was. I didn't really know what was happening. All I knew was a big building in America had been hit by two planes in a terrorist attack, and there was possibly a third plane, heading for the Pentagon, and another one somewhere in the sky.
I walked quicker than normally to my front door, unlocked and opened it, and walked straight in to the living room, and turned the television on. Of course, the news had taken over every channel, so I decided to watch it on BBC1. They were showing any footage they had. When I sat down and watched what was happening, they showed images of the first tower on fire. Then, seconds later, a plane came in to shot. For a second, it went out of shot, behind the towers, and then a fireball ripped across the sky. I never really knew where the term 'my blood ran cold' came from. Now I do. I went so cold I couldn't believe it. Then, and only then, did I notice the breaking news bar at the bottom of the page. It read 'America Under Attack : Plane Hits The Pentagon'. I quickly turned down the volume, and shouted down to my mum, who had only just come in to the house. I said 'mum, did you say a plane had hit or was heading for the Pentagon'. She said one was heading for it, or they thought it was. I shouted down again 'One's hit it'.
From then on, the rest of the day was surreal. Obviously, with the time difference in England, it was quite a bit later in the day than it was in New York (I think it was about 1:00 here when the first plane hit). I sat, just staring at the television for the next couple of hours. My local football (soccer) team were playing that night. Normally it is the biggest part of my week, but tonight I didn't want to go. I decided that it would be better to get away from the TV for a bit, and go and get my mind off it. I have never been so wrong.
Before a match, I go to my mates house, we have a laugh, have a drink, go to the match, and have a laugh with more people there. Tonight was different. I went to my mates house, but we just sat and watched at the TV. We were so shocked we hardly spoke, watching images of the first tower collapsing. We then dragged ourselves off the match.
Not many others did. Unsurprisingly we had the lowest turn out for sometime, and when we lost, no body was bothered. We just wanted to get back to the news. We were cut off from the news...I think we all dreaded to find out more had happened while we had been out. I went home and sat in front of the television.
I didn't go to bed until late that night. Part of me didn't want to leave the television. Part of me didn't want to wake up in the morning not knowing what else had happened. Part of me was scared to go upstairs to my room. I don't know why...it sounds stupid now, that I didnt feel safe in a village in the English countryside, but that's how it was at the time.
I don't know what time it was when I went to bed, but it was late. I got up the next morning, and sat in front of the news again until it was time to go to College. It suddenely occured to me that the soccer match I was supposed to be watching on TV that night might be called off. It was only then I checked, and found out that the match I had been to the night before was one of the only ones actually played. It was then I realised how wide spread this disaster was, and how if would affect and change so much.
During my lunch break at College, I went to the newsagents and bought a copy of all the papers I could...some of my mates thought it was a bit sick, but I thought, and still think, it's important to keep a record of this for generations to follow us. I went back, and sat by myself. I read through every tragic, heartbreaking story, trying to get as good as an appreciation as I could of what had happened.
Life slowly got back to normal, and we could start to think of other things again. However, I still think about that tragic day a lot. I often read back through those newspapers from September 12th. On the one year anniversary I lit some candles to show my sadness and rememberance. It might not sound like much, but for me, it was all I could do.
One day, whenever it arrives, I want to visit the scene of the disaster, even if it's been replaced by something else. Even it's in 60 years, and the next generation can't appreciate what happened, I want to go to pay my own, private respects, to those innocent people who lost their lives that day.
So, those are my memories from that day, on a day when I cried for people I've never met, and prayed for a country I've only visited once.
Collection
Citation
“story10721.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed December 21, 2025, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/5256.