Sept. 11, 2001 – a day that will never be forgotten
I think every American can recount where they were on Sept. 11, 2001.
I was in seventh grade at South Vienna Middle School, sitting in Jim Arter’s history class. Always a rambunctious, creative teacher, Mr. Arter was usually bouncing around his classroom, offering theatrical concepts to help his students recall the story of King Tut, or some other type of history lesson.
That day, he silently hung his head in sorrow.
I can still perfectly picture it, like a reel of film being played back in my mind. Another teacher had walked into the class. Since we sat alphabetically, my maiden name, Chaffin, put me toward the front of the classroom.
Donning a worried frown on her face, the teacher took a few steps toward Mr. Arter, gesturing for him to come closer. She leaned into his ear and whispered. His expression immediately changed.
He stood in a frozen position, his mouth partially gaping open. Looking back, the only expression I can compare his to is President George Bush’s in the library upon notification of the situation in New York. It’s one of shock, fear and anger.
The other teacher quietly and quickly excused herself from the classroom. She continued the routine throughout the hallway, personally notifying each administrator.
After spending about 10 seconds recovering, while we watched in silent
curiosity, our teacher wiped the corners of his mouth in thought. He turned to face two dozen 13-year-olds.
“Our country is under attack,” he informed us.
He retreated to his desk, hanging his head in silence. A history teacher, he knew too well what all of this meant. We pre-teens had no idea.
The remainder of the school day was spent watching televisions in various classrooms. I specifically remember watching people jump out of the buildings on the screen, and hearing the shrill voices of the news anchors as they reported what they were seeing. They were unsuccessfully attempting to hide their emotions and carry on with their responsibilities.
That scene really stuck with me. A couple teachers attempted lesson plans, but most gave up, given the sorrow, distraction and confusion of the day. I remember a few students cried. I was confused.
“Why would someone do this on purpose?” I naively thought at the time.
Each generation has their day that will “live in infamy.” For some, it’s the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, for others it’s the day President John F. Kennedy was assassinated or when the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded in the sky.
Sept. 11 is the day my generation will always remember.
One day, future Americans will only know of the day’s events through history lessons and stories of others.
They say, “never forget.” Us? We couldn’t if we tried.
Andrea Litchfield, 32, resides in London.