I was 11 years old when the Twin Towers were attacked, going to school in Branchville, NJ. I remember hearing people whispering in the hallways about something terrible happening in the city, but I didn’t get any true confirmation until my sister and I got home from school that day.
My sister heard and saw more than just rumors that day. That morning, her teacher had put on the news before class started just as he did every morning before then. However, that morning was marred by fear and terror… She saw the second plane hit the towers live on television, along with the rest of her classmates.
My cousin worked across the Hudson from where the towers were in Downtown Manhattan. During the morning meeting in their high-rise, they could only watch in horror as both planes slammed into the World Trade Center through their glass-walled office. No one said a word, save for gasps of shock and fear.
I may not be as connected with the terror attacks of that day, due to not losing anyone during those events. But never the less, I can’t help but feel like the memory of that day is permenantly seared into my brain.
All I can do is offer comfort to those who did lose someone on that terrible day, and hope that soothing words and a comforting embrace will ease some of the pain…