In 2001 I was in the 4th grade, in an elementary school for kids with military parents. This school is by the Naval Academy, so most kids had Navy parents, like me. On Sept. 11, class seemed normal except there were quite a few kids that didn’t show up that day. In the middle of our lesson, our teacher was pulled aside by a parent of one of the kids who didn’t come to school. Her face was red as if she had been crying and we could hear her bawling as she and our teacher spoke in the hall. My teacher came back inside and informed us that planes had crashed into the twin towers in New York City. I was very scared, and most of the other kids were. I had an uncle who worked in New York City, but had no idea if his office was in those towers. A kid named Frankie who sat next to me said, “I hope no planes hit the pentagon because that’s where my dad works”. I remember thinking, “What are the odds that the planes would hit the pentagon anyway”. About half an hour later we found out planes had just hit the pentagon. I was in shock, and Frankie was immediately escorted out of class. He was not the only one with parents who worked in DC. Most kids at my school had parents there, including me because my dad worked in Crystal City. I remember crying with all the other kids worried about what would happen to their parents. I remember hoping my uncle and Frankie’s dad would be okay. We were sent home early, and I don’t remember much after that. Frankie’s dad was okay and so was my uncle. I remember how many of my friends had to have their parents deployed overseas afterward. The Naval Academy’s security was increased and soldiers would carry rifles everywhere. Seven years later as I write this, I realize that a tragic event like this will stay with me the rest of my life, and I give thanks to military personnel and their families who help protect our country from further harm.