I’ve been reflecting, as many people do that remember that day, what is was like to teach on 9/11. I also just saw on the news a segment about how 1/3 of Americans weren’t alive or don’t have memories of that day. It is basically something to be taught and remembered. I do agree. It is something to be taught. We have to teach about what happened that day. It will keep the promise that our nation made to itself that what happened will never be forgotten.

Personally, I am always finding more about 9/11/01. There are so many stories of survival, or just witnessing the second plane hit the tower on TV, or one of the phone call recordings from passengers on the plane. There were so many experiences that day that many Americans can’t forget. We just can’t. Telling our stories, no matter how you experienced 9/11 when it happened, is important.

So here is mine.

I woke up to my phone ringing at 6:45am. Normally, I would wake up around 7 am to get ready for work. But I got the phone, wondering who it could be. It was a good friend, telling me to turn on the TV, and asking me if it was safe to send children to school? I was turning the TV on at the same time I was wondering about her question. Then, I saw it.

The image that many people see today, The North Tower on fire, smoke bellowing, looking like a scene from an adventure film where Bruce Willis was going to save the day. But it was real. It was live. Not a movie. And just as I was trying to process what I was seeing, I saw a second plane hit the South Tower. That’s when I knew it wasn’t going to be a normal day.

I let my friend know to find out from her district if the school was going to have session. I called my own school, and found out it would be open. So, I prepared to go to work. After all, by going to work, that’s what those terrorists wanted to destroy. Our spirit. Our strength. To cause fear. Going to work for the day would be a way to fight back. I wasn’t going to let terrorists stop me from teaching the children of America, though I admit for days after I watched airplanes flying over cautiously.

When I got to school, I had the kids journal about their feelings about what was happening, and told them it would be OK. The authorities had things under control, the airports were closed, and everyone was on the alert. Many drew flags. Many drew the Towers on fire as they had seen on TV in the morning. We’d all seen it. It naturally started as a comfort symbol. Some of the students stayed home that day. So, I only had about 2/3rds of my class. Then, I continued with my lesson plans I had laid out on Sept. 10th. I tried to make things normal for the kids. Give them routine. Make them feel safe.

The next day, all my students attended class. Most everyone had seen the images of the towers on fire. Now the Pentagon was talked about. Some of the kids saw images that have been blocked now. I know because it’s the second day that they drew bodies falling from the towers, instead of just the towers burning. What kids experienced in 2001 when everything was all a current event is so much more. Things have been edited down now. It was more raw on the day and the days after. All Americans, young and old, were united in their grief about what had happened.

We talked about what we wanted to see happen next. Many students wanted to see the Two Towers rebuilt. They heard about more of what happened, with the Two Towers becoming the symbol of the whole event. Everyone gravitated on the collapse, and seeing them rebuilt or something to replace them, gave my students hope. The flag was comforting. Many people dug out their 4th of July decorations and started to put them up. Flags decorated overpasses.

On Friday, there was a moment of silence by the whole school for those that had been lost. In a moment of emotion, I grabbed the class flag and gave it to my line leader to hold as we walked to the center of the school for the moment of silence. Many other classes had done the same. I remember watching him hold it high, proudly for all the kids to see, as we silently remembered what had happened on Tuesday.

Now, I think about that whole week I taught for this country. I’m so thankful I was able to teach that day, and unite with the students in my class for the first moment of silence. It’s a school memory I’ll cherish, always.

To those lost, the firemen and police officers that tried to save them, and to all Americans that experienced the first 9/11, we’ll never forget. Tell your experiences. Tell your stories. Show the tears.

For the education of future Americans. That’s what we stand for. Always remember, never forget.

-Mrs. Turner