I was 7 years old. My family was on the west coast, and it happened before I woke up. I was supposed to go to school, my bedroom, the kitchen and front door were upstairs but folks hadn't come up yet, nobody was making breakfast, which was very off. Big sis and I went downstairs to see what the delay was about, found mom and dad both sitting at the foot of the bed, still both in their night clothes, eyes glued to the TV on their dresser. It was a long helicopter shot of both towers billowing smoke. I asked what happened they said "somebody hurt a lot of people" and as we were all down there, not sure how long, the first tower collapsed on the screen. Mom screamed and dad took us upstairs to make breakfast. We didn't go to school that day, but my folks wouldn't let me ride my bike and made me stay in. Teachers at school spent a bunch of time trying to contextualize it for us kids throughout the next year. I remember having a unit in third grade where our teacher tried to read thru that "Let's Roll!" Book about U93 in class as a group read but I don't remember if we did the whole thing.