On Tuesday, September 11th, 2001, I was teaching high school and had a coffee break at 8:30 that morning. On my way to the cafeteria, I saw the assistant principal standing in the hall and his face was as gray as his suit. He was ex-military so to see him like that I knew something was wrong.
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When I asked him if he was okay he just said, "Go into my office. The TV is on. Osama Bin Laden has attacked the city." That made absolutely no sense at all to me but I did what he said. There on TV, I saw a plane flying into the tower and saw faint specks that I later knew to be bodies hurtling through space. And then I heard a woman broadcaster's voice say, "Oh my god, the second tower is coming down!"
I thought I'd been watching an instant replay of the event but realized what I was seeing was happening in real time in front of my eyes. I just remember suddenly becoming so cold even though it was a gorgeous and perfect autumn day that my teeth started to chatter and I couldn't stop them.
We were told to go back and continue teaching and await further instructions and not to notify the students because our school is commuting distance from NYC and many of the fathers are firefighters and police or work in the city and we didn't know who would or wouldn't be home if we sent them home to empty houses.
It was the longest day of my life and finally, the day was over. I listened to the radio all the way home and as I entered the kitchen, the phone was ringing and it was my dear Israeli friend Sara saying: "In all the years you have called to check up on us to see if we were okay, I never in my life thought I'd be calling to check to see if you are okay."
And then the emotional dam burst and my legs gave way and I sat in the middle of the kitchen floor sobbing and sobbing and pounding the floor.
The next day, when I went back to school, I had only a piece of paper and an envelope on each desk. I told every student that they were witnesses to history and one day they would want to preserve every feeling and memory to share with their future children. I told them, "When the bell rings, just pick up your pens and write and write and write. Then seal the envelope and take it home with you and put it in a safe place to keep for the future."
There was not a sound in any class all day long, even the most troubled and troublesome students simply wrote and walked out in silence. Other than a few sobs, absolute silence. This was the most important assignment I ever gave.
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