I was 16 and 700 miles away from NYC on 9/11. In history class when the first plane hit, in anatomy when the second hit and the towers fell. There was a girl in my class, Abby. We'd known each other for some years, having had band together, but weren't close in anyway. As the second plane hit, and we all realized that this was no accident (there was still confusion up to that point) she started to cry. I sat down next to her and held her hand. I cried too. Jason, this jerkoff that sat in the back of the class and drank vodka from a sprite bottle, began making jokes. Him and another idiot acted like they were planes, arms out soaring around the room, randomly crashing into things and laughing. I yelled at them because the teacher didn't say a word. She was staring at the TV like everyone else. She cried too.
The rest of the day is a blur. I think I had band next. The teacher made us play, trying to keep some semblance of normalcy. Thanks for trying, Jim.
I think about Abby and Jason every year. I wonder how Abby is. We haven't spoken since we graduated. I don't think Jason ever did graduate. I heard a while back that Abby had a kid, maybe more by now. I'd like to reach out to her, see if she even remembers that, but it seems weird. "Hey remember that time we held hands in Anatomy while the towers were falling?"
Somebody told me that 9/11 is my generation's Kennedy assassination. Everyone remembers where they were, what they were doing when JFK was killed. My generation knows where they were when the towers fell.
I guess I don't have a question. Thanks for sharing. I'm glad you're still here to tell it.
justdiver53 karma
I was 16 and 700 miles away from NYC on 9/11. In history class when the first plane hit, in anatomy when the second hit and the towers fell. There was a girl in my class, Abby. We'd known each other for some years, having had band together, but weren't close in anyway. As the second plane hit, and we all realized that this was no accident (there was still confusion up to that point) she started to cry. I sat down next to her and held her hand. I cried too. Jason, this jerkoff that sat in the back of the class and drank vodka from a sprite bottle, began making jokes. Him and another idiot acted like they were planes, arms out soaring around the room, randomly crashing into things and laughing. I yelled at them because the teacher didn't say a word. She was staring at the TV like everyone else. She cried too.
The rest of the day is a blur. I think I had band next. The teacher made us play, trying to keep some semblance of normalcy. Thanks for trying, Jim.
I think about Abby and Jason every year. I wonder how Abby is. We haven't spoken since we graduated. I don't think Jason ever did graduate. I heard a while back that Abby had a kid, maybe more by now. I'd like to reach out to her, see if she even remembers that, but it seems weird. "Hey remember that time we held hands in Anatomy while the towers were falling?"
Somebody told me that 9/11 is my generation's Kennedy assassination. Everyone remembers where they were, what they were doing when JFK was killed. My generation knows where they were when the towers fell.
I guess I don't have a question. Thanks for sharing. I'm glad you're still here to tell it.
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