5 years old…. I was only 5 years old yet this one monumental day stuck with me and will throughout my life. I remember first waiting to be dropped off at Kindergarden when NPR was briefly interrupted with the first report of the attack. My mom was horrified and called my dad, but I got dropped off and don’t remember the rest of the call. Memories of the school day have faded, but when I got home I was dropped off at a neighbors. I remember their mother glued to the TV screen, with soft tears streaming down her face. I paused to look at the TV before joining my friends on the trampoline. All I remember was the thick black smoke engulfing the tower. I thought it was a thunderstorm, because I was fascinated with weather, and did not understand where her tears were coming from.

Later that night, I remember being gathered around the TV with my parents. They explained to us what happened. I was horrified, and we spent the night in fear.

The ensuing few weeks are a blur. Once, when we were playing outside a group of low-flying planes flew overhead. My mom, engulfed with fear, screamed for us to come inside.

It is fascinating to me how I lived through an event that will change the course of history forever. That somber day shook a country to its roots, yet brought it together. I look forward to sharing my story to my children to remind them of that tumultuous day in American history that I still remember.