It was one of the first days of schools when 9-11 occurred and I just entered the 2nd grade, and everything was normal that day until after my 2nd grade class retured from lunch.
As we returned, our teacher sat the entire class down and she simply asked “does any of your parents work in NYC?” From the tone of her voice I remember being able to tell something was wrong. In response to the question from my teacher my friend raised his hand to confirm that his father worked on in NYC, as a result, he was quickly sent down to the main office where he did not return till the next day.
Once I got dropped off at home from the school bus, I opened the front door and there stood my mother crying not only because our nation was under attack, but also because one of our family friends was in one of the towers. My mother tried to tell us what happened in a very simple matter, but being in 2nd grade, I didn’t understand what she was saying until I walked into our kitchen where Fox News was showing the images of the WTC and the Pentagon.
A few days later I remember my parents talking about how painful it was to attend the funeral service of our family friend. Specifically watching the parents lay their son to rest and how he left a 5 yr old, a 3 yr old, and a baby boy only 2 months old behind.