I was teaching. My student teacher came in and told me the news. A plane had crashed into the world trade center. And then another. And the pentagon. And there was another plane. And who knows what else they were going to take?
We had no connection to what was going on. There was no looking it up on the internet. We had to plug away and teach. There was no listening to the TV other than lunchtime, a whole 3 hours away.
We weren’t allowed to tell the students what was going on, or why we were in lockdown. There was a rumor going around that day that there was a coyote on the playground. (Well, there was a predator out there. The irony isn’t lost on me.)
I drove home from work, picked my boy up from day care and hugged him for a long time. I’m grateful he was too young to know what happened that day.
And you? What are your remembrances from that day? What can you stitch along into the quilt? Leave your thoughts here like flowers at a makeshift memorial. Let their memories live on.