It was my first semester away from home and I was late to my first class of the morning, Criminal Justice. As I got into the classroom, I remember our Professor running through the door and up the aisle, anxiously asking if we’d heard the news and any updates, that a plane had flown into the WTC. I was confused and shocked….not many details had emerged at that point and the second plane had not yet hit. Halfway through class, the university cancelled all classes and I began to make my way back to my dorm room in a daze. People were gathering all over campus, but I felt so alone and saddened to the core. I remember calling my dad, who always gave me comfort and reassurance. This time he couldn’t- we were stunned and scared for our nation. I remember saying that it just seemed unreal, like some scene from a movie. Later, a few friends of mine gathered together and painted an American flag with the word Freedom on a local graffiti wall. We felt we had to do something, to show the terrorists and our fellow Americans that we were fighters and would rise above. I think that day united a whole generation, and for that brief time, we were able to focus on what really mattered, to slow down for a minute and help others who were in need, to regain some of the humanity that had been lost in our face paced, technology driven society.