unless they’re interesting reblogs. really, i just don’t feel like my thoughts are interesting enough to be shared on here. so for now, those are kept private.
in the meantime, i will continue on lurking and liking random posts. :]
unless they’re interesting reblogs. really, i just don’t feel like my thoughts are interesting enough to be shared on here. so for now, those are kept private.
in the meantime, i will continue on lurking and liking random posts. :]
I was at home getting ready for school when news broke of Flight 11 crashing into the North Tower. I found out about the crash as my father and me were listening to Howard Stern, per usual. Honestly I was only ten at the time, so my mind didn’t immediately jump to the thought of an attack. I, just as many others, figured it was merely an awful accident.
When I arrived at school, I thought of telling my teacher, Mrs. Choe, about the accident. However, after a moment of thought, I figured I probably shouldn’t mention that I listen to Howard Stern every morning. Woman would have flipped her shit. Shortly after the final bell rang at 9:15, a woman ran into my classroom and quietly told our teacher something. She looked quite frantic, but I didn’t know who she was. After she ran out of the room, Mrs. Choe turned on the news and that’s when I saw that another plane had hit the South Tower. Within minutes, Ms. Williams’ class poured into our room to watch with us. Although I didn’t really understand fully what was happening, watching the faces of the faculty and seeing the burning building on television was all I needed to see to know that something beyond horrible was going on. I was beyond terrified.
After Flight 77 hit the Pentagon, the intercom was being flooded with announcements for students to gather their things because their parents were there to pick them up so they could go home. I remember sitting there in class watching the news, fingers crossed that my mom or dad would come pick me up. All I could think about was the fact that my grandma works in the Key Tower downtown, I mean I knew it wasn’t the biggest target, but still I was worried.
Now in the elementary school I went to, it starts at 9:15 and then around 11:30-ish first and second grade go to lunch, third and fourth go to recess and fifth and sixth go to indoor activity time. Then they rotate until fifth and sixth are in lunch.
Anyway, once activity time rolled around, more than half the school had gone home. I sat against the wall praying to hear my name called over the intercom. I wanted so badly to be with my mom, dad and sister and to know that my grandma was okay. Finally I heard my name called and I sprinted up so fast, grabbed my stuff and darted to the office to meet my dad. After he picked me up, we went and picked up something to eat then went home. For the rest of the day, we had the television set to one of the news stations, however it was kept on mute. Instead of listening to what the news anchors were saying, my parents listening to Howard Stern. At one point, I remember my mom saying “Fuck yeah, Howard Stern for president!” True facts.
That’s all I really remember from that day, being at home was sort of a blur. I just know I was really happy to be at home with my family, rather than sitting in a partially empty school. Granted, I was sad for the bad things that were going on, but I was still young. My first thoughts were always about my family. It wasn’t until after the day was done that I realized just how bad the events were. I stayed home the next day because my mother was terrified and Howard Stern was the dominant voice in my household that week.
I was sleeping when the attacks happened since i live on the opposite coast
i was really afraid there would be an attack here though, I didnt even go to school that day. my parents were on the phone alot since we have a huge family and some of them travel for business. thankfully everyone was ok. it was horrible to think about something bad happening to the people i love.
(I was in third grade, btw.)
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Sean “Diddy” Combs While I can’t say I was a big fan of Michael Jackson nor can I say that he was someone who made me “believe in magic”, I have the upmost respect for him. I can only hope that everyone is able to find that musician, that artist, that band-that person-who makes them believe in magic. Makes them believe in the power, the beauty and the greatness of something bigger than themselves. Because, my friends, belief and love are all apart of the magic. (via lyssaloveless) |