story10506.xml

story10506.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2004-03-28

The summer of 2001 was very memorable to me. When it began, we lived in Dahlgren, Virginia. Dahlgren was a little Navy base on the shores of the Potomac River, home to 300 personell and their families. On June 15, my summer began. The eighth graders from Dahlgren School, all 14 of us (seriously), graduated. My best friend Aaron and I would spend our days riding around base, playing Mario on the original Nintendo, and go swimming in the creek with our friends.

Somedays, we would sneak off base to grab a milkshake at Marathons. But around July, things started getting odd in Dahlgren. Security was beefed up for no apparent reason. You needed to have your ID everywhere you went. This was frustrating because I never was able to keep track of my ID card. My dad, however, welcomed the security. He felt it was at least something to do after the COLE disaster 9 months earlier. Being a Plankowner of the ill-fated destroyer, and friend to five of the victims (two killed) that day, he felt that not enough had been done following it.

I remember one day, maybe July 15, 2001. Dad had been invited to his friends housewarming party in King George. Since my mom wasn't home, he decided to bring me too. He told me to get my ID but I told him I couldn't find it. Dad got upset, and I yelled out "Why do I have to carry my ID around! It's not like we're going to have a terrorist attack this summer or anything!" I will remember those words till the day I die.

In August, Aaron and I went to summer camp with the Boy Scouts. While there, a few of us started talking about Pearl Harbor and what it would be like if another one happened. During the night, I had a nightmare that my family was driving around in Washington D.C. A plane veered out of nowhere and slammed into the Washington Monument, before the remnants crashed into the Capitol. People were screaming and bleeding. I woke up to find our tent in the middle of the night, everybody else sleeping soundly.

On August 17, I turned 14. Two weeks later, we moved to Virginia Beach. I started high school at Princess Anne High School on September 4, 2001.

On September 11, 2001, I walked to school, and forgot my lunch. I was called down to the office out of English class at 8:34 a.m., and came back with my lunch at 8:39 a.m.
At 8:54 a.m., the bell rang. 5 minutes earlier, American Airlines Flight 11 struck the North Tower of the World Trade Center. My next class was Earth Science. Ten minutes into Earth Science, my oceanography teacher this year (2003-2004), Mr. Weis, walked in to tell my science teacher what happened. He whispered very softly. "A plane has hit the World Trade Center." I thought it was all a hoax. Mr. Weis has been known to pull practical jokes. Mr. Rose turned on the television, and there it was! "Manhattan's on fire!" I thought, seeing the towers on fire. The class looked on in horror as the scene unfolded before us via CNN. Reports came in before they were confirmed. "Helicopter crashes into Pentigon", "Several other planes reported hijacked", the list went on. Then, at 9:30, the south tower collapsed. The class screamed as the flaming chimney turned into a column of smoke. Our principal, Mrs. Griffin, came on the intercom to comfort the students. I forget her exact words. A high school came on the screen, and there were reports that a bomb was inside. Then the bell rang. During history class, we were studying religions. Using a world map, we had to point out where the major religions were concentrated. In fury I marked out Afghanistan and Iran.

School was let out at 2:12 that day. I ran home to find my parents watching the television. Dad and I went to his high school friend's house that night. She was watching CNN also. Reports were coming in about missile strikes in Kabul, Afghanistan.

A year later, I attended a special flag raising ceremony in honor of those who were killed that terrible day. Every night I pray that another September 11 will never happen again.