I was in 11th grade US History. It was the beginning of the school year and everything still seemed new. Class had just started and my teacher was called out into the hallway. When she came back in, she had a shocked look on her face and there were tears in her eyes. She let us know that a plane had crashed into one of the towers. We continued with class anyway but I don’t remember accomplishing much. 40 minutes later, I went to my Latin class. We told the teacher about the first crash (which is the only one we knew about at that point), and he didn’t believe us. He told us that there is no way that happened and we needed to continue class. Somehow he hadn’t heard the news. We sat through that class as well and when we got out, I remember walking down the hallway and I passed a classroom which had a TV playing in it. I saw a video of both towers on fire and a replay of the first collapsing. I went to gym class and we all sat on the floor of the gym and watched footage. An announcement came over the loudspeaker that school would be dismissed early. I lived across the street from the school and I walked home. When I went in the front door, my mom was sitting on the couch in tears and she got up and hugged me. She had a pile of laundry next to her which she had started folding early in the morning but it was still sitting there. I got a telephone call from the boy at my job that I had a crush on. He asked, “are you ok?” I started crying. We dated for a year and a half after that.