September 11, 2001 was a day that shook America to its core, but to me, it had little meaning.
Though, it probably should have. My dad is a pilot for United Airlines and he was piloting a flight on this
dreadful day. As if it wasn’t bad enough that he was in the air, he was in the same airspace as the
hijackers that took over the first plane to hit the towers. He, eerily, heard their voices on the radio.
I was in Mrs. Seitz’s second grade class. She was a short, intense lady who never stopped
moving or talking. And to me, she was overwhelming. It was a Tuesday. Tuesdays in Mrs. Seitz’s class
were the best because that was reading day, where she read to us any book that we requested. So,
because it was just like any other Tuesday …show more content…
I had never been more excited to exit a vehicle in my life. Little did I know, I was
about to embark on one of the most profound adventures of my life. I was simply excited to get a little
fresh air, and I had no idea that my entire concept of 9/11 was about to radically shift. We shuffled into
the entrance of the memorial, hardly interested, overwhelmingly happy to be off the bus. As my choir
broke off into smaller groups, a few friends and I wandered to the location where the towers stood. In
the exact place the Twin Towers used to be is now a waist-high wall outlining the place of each of the
towers; with a deep, square hole in the middle; and a waterfall into the ground as far down as I could
see. On the top face of the short walls are written the names of all those who lost their lives in the
attack. The names are grouped by floor they worked on in the towers or the plane they were in. As I
stood there, gazing at the place where so many had lost their lives, I couldn’t help but feel that I wasn’t
emotional enough for the situation. Others around me were crying and hugging. I read words, …show more content…
Why? Did you know the guy?” My dad informed me that
Michael and he had trained at United together. They had even shared a crash pad, or apartment, to stay
at while they were on call their first few years at United. “He had a family, a son and daughter about
your age”, one of his texts read. All of a sudden, the emotion that I had been trying to muster up for ten
years, hit me like a brick wall. Out of nowhere, the faceless name had a story, a family, and a life. When
I did a little research on Michael Horrocks, I found similarities that struck a little too close to home with
me. I read that his daughter isn’t very different from me. Two years older, she was heavily involved in athletics in high school, playing soccer and running track. I saw pictures of
a grieving wife and broken-hearted son and daughter. Everything I read and saw suddenly became so
close and all too possible.
That could have been my dad flying the plane that crashed that day. My mom could have been
the grieving wife that lost her one true love. My sister could have been the bride who didn’t have a
father to walk her down the aisle on her wedding day and my brother, the boy who didn’t have a
Though, it probably should have. My dad is a pilot for United Airlines and he was piloting a flight on this
dreadful day. As if it wasn’t bad enough that he was in the air, he was in the same airspace as the
hijackers that took over the first plane to hit the towers. He, eerily, heard their voices on the radio.
I was in Mrs. Seitz’s second grade class. She was a short, intense lady who never stopped
moving or talking. And to me, she was overwhelming. It was a Tuesday. Tuesdays in Mrs. Seitz’s class
were the best because that was reading day, where she read to us any book that we requested. So,
because it was just like any other Tuesday …show more content…
I had never been more excited to exit a vehicle in my life. Little did I know, I was
about to embark on one of the most profound adventures of my life. I was simply excited to get a little
fresh air, and I had no idea that my entire concept of 9/11 was about to radically shift. We shuffled into
the entrance of the memorial, hardly interested, overwhelmingly happy to be off the bus. As my choir
broke off into smaller groups, a few friends and I wandered to the location where the towers stood. In
the exact place the Twin Towers used to be is now a waist-high wall outlining the place of each of the
towers; with a deep, square hole in the middle; and a waterfall into the ground as far down as I could
see. On the top face of the short walls are written the names of all those who lost their lives in the
attack. The names are grouped by floor they worked on in the towers or the plane they were in. As I
stood there, gazing at the place where so many had lost their lives, I couldn’t help but feel that I wasn’t
emotional enough for the situation. Others around me were crying and hugging. I read words, …show more content…
Why? Did you know the guy?” My dad informed me that
Michael and he had trained at United together. They had even shared a crash pad, or apartment, to stay
at while they were on call their first few years at United. “He had a family, a son and daughter about
your age”, one of his texts read. All of a sudden, the emotion that I had been trying to muster up for ten
years, hit me like a brick wall. Out of nowhere, the faceless name had a story, a family, and a life. When
I did a little research on Michael Horrocks, I found similarities that struck a little too close to home with
me. I read that his daughter isn’t very different from me. Two years older, she was heavily involved in athletics in high school, playing soccer and running track. I saw pictures of
a grieving wife and broken-hearted son and daughter. Everything I read and saw suddenly became so
close and all too possible.
That could have been my dad flying the plane that crashed that day. My mom could have been
the grieving wife that lost her one true love. My sister could have been the bride who didn’t have a
father to walk her down the aisle on her wedding day and my brother, the boy who didn’t have a