September 11, 2001 from the View Point of a NYC High School Student
The principal, who was rarely heard from in such a large school, made an announcement over the PA system that the school would remain open and that if any students couldn’t get home, they could stay at the school for the night. First I wondered why make such an announcement, “Why would someone think the school wouldn’t be open? Why would students have to stay overnight at the school?” I didn’t learn till later that trains into Manhattan were shutdown and students from Manhattan would probably not be able to get home.
It wasn’t until fifth period lunch that I had any more hints that something was wrong. The lunchroom was equipped with accordion walls that folded up into the permanent walls. It didn’t hit me right away for some reason, though I did notice something was different when I sat down. One accordion wall was drawn out, blocking off the window with the perfect view of the World Trade Center. Other students were craning their necks by the next window, though at the time I had no idea why the wall was out or what the others were trying to see. I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t have a clue as to what it was.
My mind was racing all day. “What’s been happening all day? Why was the Principal letting students stay at the school at night? Would I want to leave school at 1:40 and find out?” I walked by a window on the second floor that overlooked the main entrance of the school and saw a whole group of anxious parents outside and I knew something was wrong, I looked for my mom, but she was nowhere in sight. I was so nervous by then that had I even seen the corner of her pocketbook, I would have run out of the school faster than the Road Runner from “The Bugs Bunny and Tweety show” cartoons. I moved on to my next class but my suspicions were confirmed, something had happened, the adults knew it and weren’t telling us, not that I blame them, but it was nerve-wracking to know something had happened and not know what it was. Then, the biggest hint of all came from a group of fellow students.
On my way to class, I passed by a group of girls talking and heard one say with the most shocked expression on her face “The World Trade Center!” I knew it right then and there, Something had happened at the WTC, another attack, an accident, I didn’t know what, but I knew it was bad. I immediately flashed back to February 26, 1993. I knew absolutely nothing during the day, but when I got out my babysitters son mentioned it in the ride home. I was terrified. When I got home I ran right to my Grandmother, Mom was still at work. I didn’t know what had happened in detail, but I knew th World Trade Center had been attacked. I also knew that “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” wouldn’t be on because CBS 2 was the only station that had left their old antenna on the top of the Empire State Building after they all moved to the World Trade Center. A bit shallow, but I was six, I didn’t understand. On 9/11, I was much more aware of what something happening at the World Trade Center meant, and I wished for the days when I was six and couldn’t understand. Ignorance is bliss. I knew I had to get through the last two periods of class before I could get out and hopefully find Mom waiting for me like Grandmother had been there nearly nine years ago. My Grandmother, Mary Irene, had passed on in January 2000. If mom had been at work, instead of working from home, I don’t know what I would have done that afternoon, no matter what age, fourteen or four, Mom has always been there in bad times, always a comfort when I was scared out of my wits, and I will always love her for that.
During eighth period health class, one student mentioned that something had happened at the WTC involving planes, but the teacher, Mrs. Hawk, came in and class went on. Next was ninth period math class, again nothing happened, then school was finally over and I was free to go.
I walked out of school and found my mom. I asked her what had happened at the World Trade Center. I wasn’t prepared for what she told me. When I heard the Twin Towers were gone, the first thing that came to mind was Toys “R” Us. There was one that mom used to take me to when I was younger. It was located at the Metro Mall in Middle Village. To get to Toys “R” Us, you had to park on the roof and take an escalator down to the store. On that roof, on a clear day, you could see the Twin Towers. I used to have so much fun looking for them when we would shop at Toys or the other store accessed from the roof, Caldor, later Kmart. I couldn’t believe I’d never see them again.
We had to take the long way home, as Queens Blvd. was jammed with people who, I can only guess, had fled Manhattan, or were looking for loved ones who were lost. A ride that normally took about a half hour took 2 hours. On the way we passed by a hospital. The line to give blood was out the door and down the street. I couldn’t have been more proud, or more scared, to live in New York, by this I mean that, though I was proud to see New Yorkers banding together in such horrible times, the scope of what this meant, how bad the situation was, scared me more than the shadows on my bedroom walls or all the lightning I had seen combined. Then we got home.
The first thing we did was turn on the TV. Like last time, CBS 2 was the only station on. The North Tower had taken the antenna down with it, but this time I didn’t matter to me. I remember watching report after report on the situation in Manhattan. I saw a reporter’s previously recorded report form a building that had been gutted by the attacks, minutes after he recorded it, that building came crashing down. The thing I remember most about that evening was when a new video of the second plane hitting tower two. That was it, I lost it, I broke down and cried like I had never cried before, and I prayed, prayed to God, prayed to Grandmother Mary, prayed to Grandpa John and my father, neither of whom I ever met. I think I even prayed to our old dog, Captain, anyone I could think of. I prayed for peace, I prayed for the people who caused this hell to be caught. I think I calmed down when my mom came downstairs, she’d gone on the internet to talk to her friends and let them know we were alright. I couldn’t stand the TV anymore, so I went on the computer and played The Sims.
Mayor Giuliani announced that schools would be closed the next day. I was happy, I couldn’t imagine going back to school and seeing the gap left in the skyline I’d come to know and love over the years, at least so soon. Mom was scared or the smoke and debris that the weatherman was saying would be blown towards Brooklyn and Queens, so she kept me home until Monday. Life eventually went back to normal. TV returned to normal, School was still the same. However something was different, I still don’t know quite what it was, but it’s obvious what caused it. September 11th was the worst day in American history, those of us who lived through it, weather or not we were in Manhattan, will never forget and if we allow future generations to go through life without knowing what happened that day and trying to make them understand as best they can, then we have failed to learn a thing.
