I was sixteen years old on September 11, 2001 living in a suburb of Detroit. I did not personally know anyone involved in the attacks. They say there was a time before 9/11 and then a time after 9/11. This is what I remember from that day.
It was the second or third week of my junior year of high school. We were starting to think about colleges and SATs. I desperately wanted to become a journalist. I was writing my first completely original novel length work of fiction about a girl who was raised by dolphins in a dedicated notebook during downtime in classes. Everything felt possible.
I do not remember first period.
To this day I can not tell you anything about first period in junior year. I do not remember the subject or the teacher. I’ve tried to recall it but have no idea.
I was leaving second period, advanced math, when I heard about the first plane. Rumors in the hallway as we all went to our lockers to grab what we needed for the next class. People were saying a plane hit a building in New York. I had no idea what the World Trade Towers were at the time. I had never been to New York. We all thought it was a small plane. A terrible accident, but I remember a hint of fear already in the air. Whatever was happening was different. It already felt big.
Third period was Essay Research. This class was a joke. The teacher was retiring at the end of the year and did not care. We all knew he graded based on how much he liked you. The high achieving perfectionist in me still wanted to prove myself to this man, even though I had no respect for him. He always had the TV in the classroom turned on to the news. The essay we were working on was on current events, though we all knew it was an excuse for him to watch the news all day.
This class was usually noisy. He did not care if we talked through class. That day it was silent as we all watched the news. I remember seeing the second plane hit live but thinking it was a replay of the first plane. It took a few minutes for everyone to realize what was going on. That’s when the fear really started to take hold. This wasn’t an accident. We were under attack. We had no idea how many more planes were out there or where they were heading. All sat with out notebooks out, but no one worked on their essay. Everyone just watched the news and whispered to one another.
I had Chemistry for fourth period. Our teacher told us we would be spending the period getting caught up on any work we had and would leave the TV on in the background. It was the beginning of the school year, there hadn’t been enough time to fall behind. We all just sat and watched the news.
This classroom was set up a little like a stadium, with the teacher’s desk and lab table on the bottom and several rows of desks on raising steps going up. I was on the top row in the back corner. My friend Greg was sitting one step down in front of me. Greg and I were not close friends. We didn’t hang out outside of school or anything, but we had been in classes together for years and always got along. We were friendly and enjoyed working on projects together. We watched the towers fall and the Pentagon get hit together.
The fear in the air increased. A handful of students started to be called down to the office. Their parents were coming to get them. Most students stayed. We were far away. We told each other we were safe. There was no reason for an attack to happen near us. Greg and I were talking about the US going to war. We didn’t know who with yet, but we were both certain it was going to happen. Greg was a little older than me, he had just turned seventeen. He talked about getting drafted. I still remember the fear in his eyes. It was like his future had been stolen from him in that moment. I thought about enlisting as well. If the men were going to be drafted it seemed only right that I sign up to defend my country too.
Lunch was after chemistry. It felt like we could breathe a little again. There were no TVs in the cafeteria. Instead we talked and we speculated. We didn’t know if the attacks were over. We discussed the likelihood of Detroit being targeted. We talked about foreign armies coming here to fight. We talked about the students that had gone. Someone’s dad on was a business trip in New York. We all wondered what was going to happen next while telling each other we were far enough away that we were safe. School went on as normal.
I was at my locker after lunch when I heard about the plane going down in Pennsylvania. I had a lot of family in Pittsburgh. No one could tell me where in Pennsylvania the plane hit. I rushed to fifth period, Spanish, so I could see the news. Spanish was my least favorite class. It was really the only class I struggled with and can still remember the anxiety felt while in this class. Tuesdays were our weekly vocab test. We still took the test while the news played in the background. I remember thinking how absurd it all felt while I tried to listen to the news at the same time. There was a moment of relief when I learned that the plane hadn’t gone down anywhere near my family. It was short lived though. We still didn’t know if the attacks were over. We were all trying to act normal while waiting for the next piece of news.
Sixth period was Newspaper. I was so excited to be on the newspaper staff. It was one of the few classes that had prerequisites to get into and I felt special being one of the few juniors to get into the class. There were less than 10 of us in the class. The teacher told us she would keep the TV on but we still had to work. I desperately wanted to impress this teacher so I pulled out my article and tried for a few minutes to edit it. I’m pretty sure I was the only one to make an attempt. I remember the teacher and her student teacher sitting in the students desks with us just watching. No one said anything during the whole class.
At some point during class the principal came on the speakers to announce that all afterschool activities were canceled. I drove home and found my mom waiting for me at the front door. She had never done that before. I still remember what her hug felt like that day. I might have finally cried then, I’m not sure.
We spent the rest of the night watching the news as a family. At some point my dad got his old hunting rifle out of the basement. I knew we had it locked away in a cabinet behind the furnace in the basement. We had been told never to touch it and I never had. I had never seen my dad take it out before. He slept with it next to bed that night. He didn’t say it, but I knew he was worried about the house being attacked. It was the only way he could think to do to protect us in case there was a land assault. That gun stayed next to his bed until I graduated high school.
September 12, school was canceled.
Holly Ash 