story3505.xml

story3505.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-09-11

It would be hard for any American to forget where they were that day or what they were doing when they heard the news that two planes had just crashed into the World Trade Center. I remember it clearly because I had just lined 16 little children up to go to lunch. We were walking down the hall in our neat line trying to remember the rules after being in school only a week. Another teacher stopped me and asked me if I heard the news. "What news?" I politely asked as 16 first graders waited for their teacher to continue on down the hall. "The World Trade Center just exploded." She said through teary, confused eyes. "What happened???" I asked with some alarm, "How did it explode?" She dabbed a tissue at her eyes and replied "I really don't know right now, but I'm going to go find out. I have family there." I thought of my cousin that lived in New York, and tried not to show any fear as I lead the class down the hall. By the time I got to the lunchroom, I had silent tears leaking down my face because I knew that what I had heard was only the tip of the iceberg. When I went back to my room, I was glad that the television set that had so recently been wired worked. I gathered all the facts as quickly as I could while another teacher came in and stood beside me. We just stared blankly and I thought about my daughter who had turned 5 months old on this date.
When I learned that another attack had taken place on the Pentagon, I rushed to call my Mom. You see, my Aunt and Uncle both work in D.C., and my other cousin goes to school there (these are the parents to my cousin that lives in New York). When I spoke to my Mom, it was hard to keep the worry out of my voice when I asked what in the world was happening. I asked if it was a mistake, was everyone in our family okay? She said she had just gotten off the phone with my Uncle and they were fine, but now my Aunt was stuck in D.C. traffic and she called my cousin and told her not to leave the apartment in New York. I had one more call to make. My husband at Langley Air Force Base. He was fine, but they were on a threat status now and I really couldn't talk to him long. By that time I realized I hadn't eaten anything, and it was time to go pick up the children (what I really wanted to do was to go home and pick up my own child from daycare and hold on to her as tight as I could). How could I compose myself after this and go on teaching for the rest of the day? What was I going to say to the class? Should I say anything? As an adult, I had a hundred questions. How was I going to answer theirs? I decided to tell them what had happened as soon as we got back to class. It was so hard to look at all of their little faces and explain what terrorism is, but I knew that I was doing the right thing by being as staight forward with the news as I could on their level. It is never easy being a teacher, but on that day I felt like somehow the innocence was ripped from my classroom, and I knew that nothing I could say or do would ever make it right again. However, I was sure going to try. The next day, as the children marched into my classroom, America the Beautiful could be heard coming from my room.