On Sept. 11, 2001, I was 13 and an eighth-grader at Eisenhower Jr. High School.
I remember being in English class, my first period of the day, and a rumor murmuring something had happened. My teacher wouldn't speak of it.
We went to our other classes.
Then, right before lunch, we asked our social studies teacher to tell us what was happening. She spoke succinctly: "There was an attack on the World Trade Center."
We were shocked, but also confused. We didn't know that the weapons had been hijacked planes. We didn't know that there was also an attack on the Pentagon. No one spoke of anyone dying.
I honestly didn't think much of it. We finished the school day.
Then an announcement came over the loudspeaker that there were no extracurricular activities or detention for the day. Everyone was to go home. That's when I knew something was very wrong.
I watched CNN with my family. I saw the towers come down. I saw the dust and the people running in the streets. I heard about the magnitude, but I didn't understand.
I had gone on a choir trip to Pennsylvania and New York that spring. I went up to my room and found my photos. There was the New York City skyline, as it had looked just hours before. I thought how strange that this would be a part of the school's history curriculum someday.
A few weeks later, the country feared we'd face another attack. On that day, I was fundraising in my band uniform, asking for donations. I bided my time and hoped I wouldn't hear anything. I knew that everything had changed.
Where were you on Sept. 11, 2001? Feel free to share your story.