Part Of The Last Generation


   I remember waking up that day, getting ready for another exciting day of the third grade. At the time I didn't even know what day it was, relatively I never really cared. I didn't have a schedule to keep on, aside from the days left till winter break. My Mom, who never failed to miss a morning news report, surely saw the atrocity which hogged practically every station. Though she turned off the TV quickly when I entered the living room. Odd, but I assumed she was in a hurry to drop me off so she had to get to one of her jobs.  I couldn't keep track of all her hours, which were never regular. Being a single mom she worked two full time and one part time jobs, but I digress.

   We rode quietly because my Mom apparently had a "head ache" and listening to KSON like we did each morning was out of the question. I arrived at school without a hitch at around 10, and talked with my classmates who also had similar oddities with their parents this morning. There was a tension in the air when any adult walked by us. Our teacher who was usually on time was five minutes late, she seemed disarrayed with her hair loose and make up running. As we took our seats and began to open our textbooks to what we had been studying at the time she told us that we wouldn't be doing what was on our planner today. Smiles broke out all around, a few whooped and yelled with glee. A surprise day off! Nothing could have prepared us for what really happened.

She turned on the t.v. , images of screaming and crying people in a city we had never seen before were being interviewed or simply used as a backdrop while a reporter voiced of the scene. How many dead, how many unaccounted for, firefighters efforts etc... We weren't entirely grasping the concept of what a terrorist was, but we knew it was obviously a horrible person to have done this. Our teacher added little additions like how we were the prime target to be next what with San Diego being a major naval city. That they would target places like school, and the mall; everywhere we enjoyed...  We continued to watch different channels until the end of the school day 7 hours later. Our parents, which always waited right outside the door were greeted with tears and never ending questions. How? Why? Are we all going to die?

Needless to say our teacher was in the dog house. She pleaded her case to the board that we needed to see what was going on. As a "learning experience". She stayed out the rest of the year, but was let go shortly thereafter.


Furthermore I strongly believe 1993/1992 born children are the last to truly remember the day for what happened to us specifically rather than just knowing what happened at the scene. Friends of mine who are but 6 months younger and further have no recollection of what they were doing that day...

I think they were the lucky ones.  

No matter how you stand on the war that followed I think we can all agree to respect the lives lost, and the families left to mourn.

deleted deleted
26-30
Jan 7, 2013