Posted on 09/10/2020 11:05:18 PM PDT by grey_whiskers
Born and raised in NYC. I’m still here.
I remember how, for a brief moment, it seemed like the world was ending. There was a fear that slowly gripped everyone that day.
It started strangely. We heard fire engines roaring, in an endless wave, to some unknown destination. Teachers in my Brooklyn school looked out windows and commented that “something big” probably happened. In our classroom, there wasn’t even a faint clue of the tragedy unfolding. A foreign concept in today’s notification and information driven world - we had no TVs, no radios, no smartphones and no social media.
As with most NY moments, we brushed off the 20 minute parade of fire engines and emergency vehicles as “nothing much” and went on about our lesson. A few minutes later, our teacher‘s cellphone started to ring incessantly. After the fourth or fifth call in a row, he finally answered it. The color drained from his face as he listened intently to the callers voice. He darted to the window to try and catch a glimpse. We students began to look at each other, more as if the teacher had lost his mind than anything else. We snickered. We didn’t realize that snicker was the last we would have in our childhood innocence.
My teacher’s only response to the caller was “Oh my God.” He didn’t exclaim it. It was more or less a defeated sigh. He then locked eyes with all of us, and tears began to form. He told the caller “I have to go” realizing he needed to tell us what was occurring. As he snapped his cellphone shut, he looked upon us and said “Gentlemen, there has been an accident in the city. A plane hit the World Trade Center. Many lives have been lost. Please join me in saying the Our Father.”
As he stared the Lord’s Prayer, my mind drifted to an image of the World Trade Center. In my mind, it stood gleaming in the brilliant sun of that September morning. I then tried to imagine the circumstances that would bring a plane crashing into it. I concluded that it was likely a private plane - dimly remembering a story about a smaller plane hitting the Empire State Building in the 1940s. That was the only image of the event I could muster - a small plane, barely putting a dent in that big, beautiful building but causing havoc in lower Manhattan.
After 10-15 minutes of prayer, there was a knock on our door. An administrator spoke with the teacher in the hallway. The teacher came back into our room and said we were going to the auditorium for a school meeting. Something didn’t feel right. You don’t stop a school for some wayward pilot that couldn’t avoid hitting a building.
We made our way down to the auditorium. There were rumblings of far bigger, and worse, happenings. I dismissed them as rumors. I remember some of us joking that the pilot flew the way our friend (who failed his road test multiple times) drove. When we were all convened in the auditorium, a very somber mood drifted over all of us. No one was laughing, or joking. A look of pained concern overtook us.
Finally, the Principal got on stage and announced “I’m sure you’re all aware that a plane has hit one of the towers of the trade center. What you probably don’t know is that a second plane has hit the other tower. We will be staying in the auditorium for the rest of the day. We will contact your parents to pick you up.”
When he told us that a second plane hit the second tower, all air and light left the room. None of us spoke, likely because we were left speechless. In one moment we all realized what had happened. In one moment, we all lost our innocence.
Slowly information trickled in about the size of the planes. Still, my mind pictured the plane leaving a slightly bigger dent - and causing slightly more havoc - but not much more. I couldn’t imagine anything worse.
That day, I didn’t get home until 9PM - because of being picked up and staying with my Mom until she was out of work. I suppose she was 9/11’s version of an “essential worker.” At 9PM, I first sat down to watch the news. By 9:15, the station started to play the video of the second plane hitting the tower. Even after twelve hours of hearing about the event, I nearly jumped out of my seat in horror when I saw the plane smash directly into the tower. The reality of it was exponentially worse than anything I ever imagined. Looking back on how badly my imagination compared to reality, I can only chalk it up to being young and innocent - and not well versed in the wickedness of this world.
I then sat and watched a replay of the towers falling. I never imagined them being completely gone. But as I watched them descend into a seemingly bottomless pit of dust and smoke, I felt everything around me crashing down. I was no longer living in the world that I woke up in earlier that day. This was something grim and bleak that didn’t resemble the clear blue, sunny, and carefree day that 9/11 promised to be at daybreak.
When I think of MAGA, of course I think of the 40s and 50s. But I also think in one major generality: pre 9/11. Bring me back to that America. The open, free, safe, un PC, make it on your merits not your race America. Everything after 9/11 was wrong and upside down. I’m sure many of you feel the same.
I do this writing exercise every 9/11. I will never forget.
On 9/11, I had nodded off in front of the TV. I woke up to hear Fox News stating that there were reports of a plane hitting the world trade center-and to stay tuned for confirmation/details.
Like this writer, I imagined a small private plane. Naturally, I kept watching. When I saw the 2cnd plane hit the towers, I jumped-like when someone sneaks up and scares you. That’s because the plane had barely appeared when it struck the tower. It obviously was not a small private plane.
I watched as the buildings collapsed, and had a brief thought-it reminded me of demolitions of buildings I had watched in St. Louis-but didn’t really think much about that until all the fuss/theories later.
Naturally, I watched it all — I saw Rumsfield trying to help after the Pentagon was hit. Heard about the plane down in Pa. It was a terrible day. So many deaths then and later.
I long for a pre 9/11 America.
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.