story2118.xml

story2118.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-09-10

On the morning of September 11th, I was leading my kindergarten class to their 9:20 AM music class. As we passed through the lobby, I noticed our building principal and the school librarian setting up a television and connecting the cables. This alarmed me, I could recall the television being positioned in this location, and it always was a harbinger of a tragedy. I continued down the hallway and ran through a mental checklist of possibilities?nothing, I could think of nothing that should or could prompt that placement of the television. I left my bubbling group of 4 and 5 year olds with the music teacher and proceeded back to the lobby. In those few short moments, a small crowd had gathered around the television. They stood, grim faced, and silent. Some had sat down on the small wooden airplane bench that stands in the lobby. I was unprepared for what CNN was broadcasting when I approached. Two plumes of smoke flowed from the twin towers of the World Trade Center. The World Trade Center?a place I have seen while visiting New York City?a place several hours drive from the elementary school I was standing in?a place near two friends.
As I watched, dumbfounded, I could hear the anxiety and stress in the voice of the reporter, this concerned me as the live images came across the screen. Reporters are always so polished and their reports have theme music and graphics?not fear. As I stood watching the events unfold I can remember a couple of things I heard that really frightened me. One was that the German Chancellor had called this an Act of War. This rattled me, but I realized he had to be right. What are the chances of this being an accident? Then things got worse, they began to report that smoke was coming from the Pentagon and that there was a fire on the Mall in Washington. D.C. During my lifetime, war always took place across the ocean. World War II was history for me, and Vietnam was a childhood memory. Regardless, the people living in the United States always, always, avoided experiencing the war on their homeland. Planes were dropping out of the sky. The last thing I watched on TV that day was a person falling out of the World Trade Center. I walked out of the lobby and felt I had to call my wife. My two children were at the school I worked in, but I had to talk to Patty.
The phone lines were jammed, or maybe I could not handle the simple procedure I had always followed for calling outside the building. I walked back to my empty classroom, choked up. The teaching assistants I work with soon came into the room and we began to discuss what was happening. Will the school close? What about the kids? Who would do this? Questions, without any answers. As with any school day, the clock drives students and teachers alike. I had to go pick up my children.
I brought the class back to the room and poured the milk for snack debating with myself what I was going to say to the class. Over the years, I have had to discuss with my kindergarten class the loss of a parent, the death of a classmate and school shootings. After snack, I said nothing. I moved on with my lessons as if it were just another Tuesday in early September. The Physical Education teacher had been assigned by the principal to move around the building updating teachers. He had told me that the towers had collapsed. I could not comprehend, or accept this. I rationalized that CNN was over reacting, an easy task while isolated in my classroom. Later, he came back and said that we were to let the children know that something bad had happened in New York City. That was it, no more. Again, I said nothing. My day carried on right up until I delivered them to the school bus.
When I returned from the bus line, my youngest daughter Margaret, in second grade, was waiting for me in my classroom. She said, ?Daddy what happened in New York City?? with extreme concern. New York was a place we had visited with our children. While visiting, we had met up with a friend and stayed in my daughter?s Godfather?s apartment. She was worried about those people. I tried to stay in control, but began to tear up, and I could see that this frightened her. I told her that people had used planes to crash into some buildings. ?Will they crash them here?? she said in a panicked voice. I tried to stay calm and said that President Bush had made all the airplanes land?none were flying in the air, except planes trying to keep us safe. I think I was trying to convince myself as well, but it did feel good saying that. My other daughter Leah, a fourth grader, came into the room full of details the ?older? kids had shared. I just wanted to go home, but a ?all call? through out the building asked all staff to report to the cafeteria for a meeting.
The Principal informed us that it had been quite a day outside our schools walls. Panic had set in on some of the college campuses around New York. Parents were taking children home. He said the administration had done the best they could to keep us updated, and admitted that they were trying to cope at the same time. He let us go, after mentioning a prayer vigil that would take place on the Marathon village green that evening.
As a family, we attended the service that night. We both grew up in this small upstate New York town, and could not recall a time when ALL the church pastors, priests, and reverends participated in one event. The mood was best described as somber and confused. Leaders of each church shared some words with the crowds and spontaneous hymns where sung. We all headed home. It was the first time, as an adult, I had trouble falling asleep because I was afraid.
In the following days, I had to watch the towers fall over and over. I did not watch this on television; we do not watch it in our home. I watched my Kindergarten students build up block towers and ?fly? their hands into them. The teacher?s assistant in my room and I would just look at each other with dismay. Things had changed. In the classroom, we did discuss that we would try our best to keep each other safe. We could all talk about what was bothering us at any time. My family found out that our two friends were safe. One was on the way out of the city that morning, and the other well away from the crash site. And one year later, it breaks my heart when I read my daughter?s response to a recent homework question, ?List three things that scare you.? She wrote tornadoes, blood, and terrorists. I have a father?s hope, beyond all hope, that in the years to come she will be able to change that list of things that scare her and remove the terrorists. For me, I?m going to do my best to help both of my daughters grow up in a world without fear.