I was eight years old when the towers fell. Throughout my life i have forgotten days, weeks, sometimes entire years have gone by without anything i can truly remember happening. But September 11th 2001 will always be a day i will never forget. It was a regular day as usual, i was woken up by the alarm, got out of bed, had a bowl of cheerios cereal, and went off to school for my 2nd grade class. Math went by as normal as a 2nd grade math class can, as well as recess with the jungle gym, basketball, and watching the more “sporty” kids play soccer on the fields. As we return to class, all of the students were told that our parents were coming to pick us up to return home. My father came to pick me up as my mother was picking up my little brother from pre school. They sat us down on the couch when we were both home. I still remember the exact words from my mother as she told us what was going on. “A passenger plane crashed into the world trade center.” Before that day, i never knew what the words “Terrorist,” “World Trade Center,” or even “Catastrophic” meant. But in the few words she spoke, i understood that hundreds of people i didn’t know, had died for one reason or another. My brother didn’t understand it, but i understood perfectly what had happened. That was the first time i had ever sat and watched the news for an entire program. Eight years old and it still touches me whenever i hear about it. A few months later i found out that my aunt and my two cousins were supposed to be on flight 93… but they got held up in a traffic jam and missed it. Every year, i do not just make it my privilege, but my patriotic duty to make 9/11/01 a day we truly will never forget. For people talk about how an event like this affected a firefighter, or someone they loved. Nobody talks about how an event like that could have effected just your average, regular eight year old child, who lived three thousand miles away.