On September 11th, 2001 I was:
homeschooled, & slowly getting ready for my day.
My mom came into my room & told me that a plane had just crashed into one of the World Trade Center towers.
I didn't really know what that meant. The gravity of the situation certainly hadn't hit me.
I sat on her bed & watched the news with her. My older sister joined us.
My mom went to go get my youngest sister. That was when the second plane hit.
I remember being confused. I didn't know if I was watching a replay at a different angle.
It didn't take long for them to confirm that a second plane had hit the towers.
I think that was when I realized... maybe when we all realized... what was going on.
When the Pentagon was hit, it became that much more real.
My dad's friend had left his office & went to the other side of the building.
There was no office to return to.
We spent the rest of the day in front of the tv, watching history. Horrified. Sad.
& like so many others, wondering why. Did we know anyone that was hurt. What does this mean. What comes next.
That night, I had ballet & pointe class.
I remember being surprised they weren't cancelled.
I will actually never forget being driven in that evening.
The sun was setting, & the sky was beautiful.
I remember watching it, & just feeling... small.
The world seemed so small.
I didn't know anyone in NYC that day, but I somehow knew everyone in NYC that day.
The world was small, & we were all hurting.
My teacher explained once we got into class that we were there because we needed to keep going.
To get our minds off what we'd been watching all day, but also so that they didn't win.
& they didn't.
All gave some, some gave all.
Love you, NYC.
xo, kelsey