September 11th

Adrianna was in 8th grade twenty-five years ago, the morning of September 11, 2001. She told me that another teacher opened the classroom door, crying, and went to talk to her teacher, who then also started crying. She and her classmates didn't know what was going on, of course. 

She said the two teachers kept it together as best as they could so as not to freak out the class, but told them that something was happening and explained what had happened so far (the second plane at this point.)

I can't imagine how that affected ones so young and vulnerable, the veneer of safety and security ripped away like a bandage exposing an open wound, awakening and exposing a precarious reality subjected to the whims of a few dangerous individuals. 

Things were never the same for any of us, but for the children just coming of age, I'm sure it was several fold worse.

My generation practiced duck and cover drills in elementary school, but we never really knew exactly why, and we certainly never saw our teachers crying in the hallway after an attack on our country and our innocence