I remember sitting in my math class that morning, chatting leisurely with the boy next to me like every day as we copied down the homework. I saw the grey haze of morning that crept up on the coastline of Coney Island as I stared out through one of the classroom windows. “Quiet, settle down now,” the teacher said. The math teacher from next door had just appeared at the door, looking grim and pale. he was usually a lively teacher, full of spunk and wise cracks to discipline his students. But he just looked tired and grim that day. It all went downhill from there.
“Two planes have hit the World Trade Center towers.” he explained.
We all looked at him quizically; was this one of his cruel jokes?
My math teacher brought out her old radio from the closet in the back and tuned it to 1010 WINS. Sure enough.. everything was true.
We spent the rest of the day sulking from class to class; but class wasn’t class that day. Everyone who had their own radios with them were sharing headphones with friends, listening attentively as they joted down some notes on what they heard. Announcements for kids whose parents were already there to pick them up boomed wildly on the loudspeaker. People flipped out as they furiously pressed buttons on their cell phone, trying to get them to work.
Who would do such a thing as to corrupt our lives like this??
We were supposed to hop onto our yellow school buses liek every other day, but the school held us inside until all of our parents came to pick us up individually. I went home at 6:30 that day, confused yet knowing that nothing would be the same.