About 5am on September 11th, I woke up in my dorm at Niagara University with a bad stomachache. I ended up staying up til 7 or so, when I called my cooperating teacher and told her that I would not be in because I was sick (I was student teaching for a class of nine second- and third-graders with learning disabilities here on Grand Island). I finally was able to fall back asleep, and woke up again shortly before 10:30. I turned on the TV and was brought face-to-face with what had happened that morning. In fact, I turned on the TV just in time to see the second tower fall. I was in total shock and called my mom at work. She answered the phone and was crying. She told me to pack some things and come home. See, NU is right next to the New York Power Authority, and it was on high alert for an attack (I found out later on by talking to my friends that the RAs in the dorms basically told everyone to go home, if they could, or at least to get away from the campus). So, I got off the phone with her, watched a little more TV, and then started packing some things. I was in such shock, that I dont even know what I packed. I threw things in my bag that I didnt need, and left things behind that I did. I just didnt know what was going on and didnt know what to think, feel, anything. On my way home, I stopped at the library and picked up some children's books I needed for teaching (The Very Hungry Caterpiller by Eric Carle was one of them, I remember), and I remember the library just was so silent. No one was talking, everyone just looked so lost. I remember feeling like I wanted to cry, but didnt. I remember feeling scared. Especially on the way home, I had on the radio and there were all sorts of reports about planes going down everywhere. It was scary. I live near an Air Force Reserve Base and the Niagara Falls Airport, so it was scary. The roads near the two places were completely closed. I just drove home and listened to the radio. When I got there, I turned on the TV, and there I sat for I dont know how long. I remember getting online and talking to Andy, and asking him if he was okay. Of course he was, but it was just one of those questions you had to ask. My mom came home at some point, and sat and watched the TV with me. She was crying. Everytime they showed a scene of one of the towers collapsing, she'd gasp. I cant deal with my mom crying. I dont know why. It scares me. I guess cause she is supposed to be the strong one. She is my mother. But she was crying, and it scared me. I couldnt cry. I cant cry in front of my mom. I just cant. Its like I dont want her to know I am hurting. One of my childhood friends committed suicide, and my mom came to her funeral with me, and I couldnt cry there, because I didnt want my mom to know I was hurting. I just cant. I dont know why. But that should be a whole 'nother diary entry in itself, I guess. So we just sat there and watched and watched. Later that night, I called my co-op teacher, and talked to her about how school was that day. I guess all of the teachers were brought out into the hall in small groups and were told what had happened, as school started at 8:30, and no one knew. They were told not to tell the students, at least the younger ones, and try to keep things calm and go on as normal. Of course, the kids figured something was wrong, because the teachers were all very upset, but they werent sure exactly what. We talked for a bit more, and I told her I would see her the next day.

For some reason, the next morning my mom drove me to school. It was strange not to see any planes in the sky. Not to hear any planes. We usually hear them quite frequently, but today, the skies were silent. It was amazing to see how many flags were out supporting the country and those who were killed. I wish it would be like that all of the time. It still gives me chills when I hear chants of U-S-A at games and stuff. The other day, Andy and I went to the Bills game, and before the game, they honored men and women and their families in the military, and the crowd went nuts with "U-S-A U-S-A". Chilling. Anyways, I got to school that morning, and I think only one of the kids realized what was going on. He said something about it, and no one really responded to him (the kids, I mean), so he didnt say anything more. It was strange. I thought that the kids would want to talk about it. But they were all seven and eight, maybe it just didnt really sink in what happened. They were really big on the patriotic stuff though, which was cool. The whole school made flags and we put them in all of the windows. Of course, my class was the ones with odd stripes and weird stars, but they were great.

So thats where I was on September 11th. I'm sure you will see these stories all over on Diaryland, or perhaps most people wrote them last year. I just wanted to share a bit of my story.

then || now