I was at before-school daycare, eating my breakfast at a large table when one of the teacher’s cell phones rang. It must have been about 10 minutes after the first plane hit. Somebody on the other end told her what had happened, so she rushed to the teacher’s lounge to turn the TV on. For a little bit, the two teachers traded off – one teacher would be in the room with us, while the other was watching the events unfold on TV. Then at one point, they brought us into the teacher’s lounge so they could both watch at the same time. I don’t remember exactly what I saw on the TV – I think it was right after the 2nd plane hit, and they kept replaying it. I remember thinking it was so cool that I was in the teacher’s lounge, because it had always been this mysterious room hidden from us behind a closed door. In my 2nd-grade mind, I wasn’t able to grasp the severity of what was playing out on TV. Then all of a sudden we were out of there – I can’t remember of one of the buildings had fallen yet or not, but the teachers took us back to the classroom very quickly. There were about 3-5 of us kids there, and on a normal day, dozens would have been showing up within the next hour or so. But very few kids came. I remember it was very creepy to have so few people there on what should have been such a normal day. The teachers were so serious, too. They always joked around, but today, they didn’t smile at all. They spent a lot of time on the phone, talking to family members and parents of kids who weren’t there that day. One girl was terrified that out school would fall down, and there was no way for the teachers to comfort her. It was a very odd morning; a place that I associated with fun was so full of serious adults and confused kids. I will never forget that day.