I was 2-years-old. How could I know that the World Trade Center and Pentagon were destroyed?
I was 7-years-old. I learned how a plane had destroyed the “Twin Towers”. I didn’t even realize I was alive during the time.
I was 10-years-old. It dawned on me that it could have just as easily been me, or my family, that could have died. If the World Trade Center was in Tampa, Florida, I certainly would have been killed.
I was 12-years-old. I felt anger at my school as I realized they didn’t even sing our national anthem on September 11. How could they dishonor such memory?
I am 13-years-old. My Language Arts teacher had us read two stories written by family of the victims of the crash of Flight 93. I learned about the bravery of the passengers, who sacrificed themselves for the sake of our Capitol. For the sake of our country. Suddenly, the 11th of September became more to me. I thought of the thousands of people who were killed, innocents like me. It opened my eyes to the world. Now I understand.
It took 1o years for me to understand. Now I honor the day. Now I honor the people. Now I understand.