What I Remember About September 11th

September 11th 2014

Story originally written and experienced: September 11th 2001

I remember eating pancakes.

When I found out the news.

“I can’t believe it.” Mrs. Kimmelman said. Abandoning the dirty dishes collected in our home ec. class. Decked out in a blue apron. Blonde curls. And a face of disbelief.

“How could this happen?” she muttered.

As I looked over at her. My mouth full of blueberries. And a sticky fork drenched in syrup.

Wondering what she could possibly mean.

She was staring uP at the TV screen. Mounted on our school walls.

Explodierendes World Trade Center III

And I remember her face as she watched each twin tower

c                                               c

       r                                 r

u                                                   u

          m                                 m

b                                                   b

         l                                       l

  e                                                          e





Because it was oddly stoic.

The next thing I knew parents were pouring>>> onto the school grounds. Demanding they take their children instantaneously. And they take them home now!

And then I went to gymnastics class.

Right after school. And I remember everyone buzzing about it. But we were 12. So our knowledge. Extent of concern. And general understanding. Was notably



When I got home that night. My mother was panicking.

And hanging up the phone. And dialing again. And hanging up the phone. And dialing again. And hanging up the phone. And dialing again. And hanging up the phone. And dialing again. And hanging up the phone. And dialing again. And hanging up the phone. And dialing again.

And then she said.

“Our family in New York isn’t picking up. And I just don’t know what to do.”

So we waited.

And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited.

fLiPpInG through the news in the meantime. And feeling disheartened and scared because we saw images that looked like this:

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But then.

As the minutes rolled by. Hours. Days. Months. And years.

I felt differently. A little better, in fact.

But only because.

I heard stories. And saw people. That epitomized this:

september 11th people

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sept 11th people


Thing is.

I remember eating pancakes.

On September 11th, 2001.


What I really remember.

Were the people who bargained their life strictly for strangers. Humanity. And unknowingly for history too.



Who jump-started organizations. Donated. Raised awareness. Volunteered. And took a one-day tragedy and turned it into an everlasting triumph.


Who lost their lives in an unexpected attack of terror. But were brilliant enough. Loved enough. And iconic enough.

To leave a legacy.

Through family. Children. Co-workers. Acquaintances. And friends.

And to all these people.

I say thank you.

So much.

To be associated with a nation enriched with people who exude pure patriotism and endless bravery in and out of tragedy.

Is something I’ll always be proud of.

And will never ever forget.