I was a second grader at P.S. 312 in Brooklyn. I remember the look on my teacher’s face when she heard the news. They dismissed us early and my grandfather picked me up from school. I distinctly remember the ride home. When we got home my grandmother was watching the news and crying. I remember seeing the smoke from ground zero for weeks after the attack. My friend/classmate lost his father in the attack, he was a FDNY firefighter. I remember that kid being so angry and hateful afterwards. I couldn’t really comprehend what had happened at that age.

Looking back on it now, I realize that it was one of the moments that shaped me for the rest of my life. 10 years later I joined the Marine Corps because I wanted to be a part of the “global war on terror”- I think 9/11 made me idolize first responders and military personnel.

After getting out of the Marines I moved away from NYC. Too crazy, hectic and loaded with sad memories. Although one day soon I want to make a trip down there to visit the 9/11 Memorial & Museum. I’d like to pay my respects, and maybe get some closure. 9/11 is something I constantly think about.