On September 11, 2001 I was a sophomore in high school. I was in my family and consumer science class and it was a regular day. One of my friends came into class late and began explaining what she had just seen on television. She told me that they were watching the news in a different class and that a plane had crashed into a building in New York City. I remember being really confused and scared and repeating “What do you mean a plane crashed into a building?!?!”
The bell rang and I was off to my next class — P.E. Everyone was talking about what was happening in New York and we were all freaking out. Instead of dressing into our gym uniforms the coaches had everyone huddle into one room and they let us watch the news coverage. By this time, the second plane had already crashed into the other tower. My heart was breaking for those suffering. The images on television were surreal, and I felt completely helpless.
I don’t remember much of this day except the above. I know that I was scared. Very, very scared. At 15 years old I was pretty naive and wasn’t aware of terrorism. Anything I previously learned on the subject was completely forgotten and I was extremely confused. When I found out that someone could have done this intentionally I was devastated. What kind of world were we living in? At this time I was not a Christian, and had only my friends to cling to. I imagine that I would have felt miles more comfort had I known Him at the time.
That Friday night there was a football game and the crowd dressed in red, white, and blue. The cheerleaders painted American flags on our faces. While my memory has failed me and I don’t remember much, I do remember the unity I felt with my fellow students. I remember the burst of patriotism that happened as our country stood together. And I remember feeling as though this attack on our country was not going to spread fear. If anything, this attack made us stronger.
And I for one am proud to be an American.