I was only in second grade at the time, but I will never forget that day as long as I live.
I spent the first 11 years of my life in Gaithersburg Maryland, about 2 hours drive north-west of Washington D.C. It started off just like any other day. It was in second period that the announcement came over the PA that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. The only thing I knew was that a plane crashed, which I didn't think was unusual, as I thought that planes crash every day. I remember the look of shock on my teacher's face when she heard the announcement. They immediately closed school and sent everyone home.
I remember standing outside the school and seeing a girl in 7th or 8th grade crying. At the time I had no idea why. I was just happy to be going home, but at the same time, I felt confused and scared at the same time. I knew that something big had happened, because all the adults were practically panicking.
My mom picked me up at my friend's house and she remembers an F-15 flying back and forth over I-95.
Marine-1 would always fly over my house on its way to Camp David. My dad remembers hearing a helicopter flying towards our house. He ran outside just in time to see this massive, grey CH-53 fly over our house. He could feel the downdraft of the rotors and the helicopter almost ripped the shingles off our house. The F-16s were not much higher. He remembers the scream of the F-16's engines and thought, "Oh my God, this is for real."
I remember staying inside for the next week watching the same images on the television over and over again.
I will always remember that day. I will never forget. I hope that everyone else in my generation never forgets what happened on that awful, awful day.
to everyone who still bears the scars from the day the towers fell.
