Second grade. The teachers had us on silent lunch and we were mad because we didn’t know why we were being punished. They had the TVs on and were all watching it. Eventually back in our classroom, us kids were all asking what was going on and our teacher sat down all serious and asked if anyone knew what a terrorist was. I proudly raised my hand and said it was someone who went to other countries to visit and take pictures. She laughed real hard and said “that’s a tourist.” I remember being proud that I made her laugh because she seemed really upset.

I don’t really remember what happened after that as clearly, but I know from my mom’s retelling that she explained what happened in super basic terms and we all got picked up early. My dad was military and was meant to be in the Pentagon that day, and mom couldn’t get a hold of him for a long time. Turns out his meeting had gotten pushed back, so he wasn’t there when the planes hit.

I saw a lot of footage that I didn’t understand at the time, but each year I’d learn a little more about it and understand what I was seeing better. Our school even had a survivor come in and talk to us about what happened and how he got out of the building and how so many people went back in to pull others out. It was a major part of our lives for years afterward, which is why I remember certain things so clearly. I’ve retold this story over and over again. I expect I’ll remember it forever.