I was in the 3rd grade. I remember the day started out normal, until we were told to work on our work, while my teacher talked to another teacher about a “horrible thing that happened.” At the end of the day were announcements, and all my principal said was that something terrible had happened in NYC and Washington, DC and we should ask our parents about it. I’m sure the reason why she didn’t tell us was so we wouldn’t be alarmed. My mom picked me up and we went to my grandma and grandpa’s house where the tv was on and my mom explained to me that planes had crashed. I had no clue what terrorists were, as I was only 9. I just knew that a horrible thing had occurred. That night was my school’s open house and I remember that in the gym everyone was crowded around a little tv that was showing coverage. The ironic thing is, in June 2001, my family visited my cousins in New Jersey, and they took us to NYC. As we drove past them, my one cousin said that the Twin Towers were her favorite buildings in New York. Now whenever I think of 9/11 I think of her and our trip.