18 years ago today it was a chilly Tuesday morning in a small town of Northeastern Oklahoma. I was 15 years old, and had just arrived at school - waiting outside the building with my classmates for the bell.
One of our fellow classmates that lived right across the street walked up to the group... I remember she didn't have have contacts in like usual, and instead her glasses.. weird the details I remember. She said something to the effect of "Guys, a plane just hit a building in New York." and my dumb self said - "Again?"
You see, I remember watching a news broadcast a few days before where a small propeller plane hit a building in New York. The visual was of the plane hanging halfway out of a window of a skyscraper and the pilot was not injured.. and that is what I had assumed she meant.. that was the visual I had.
Clearly the events had just occurred (7:50 ct) as she had left the house, and so even she herself did not know the extent of what was happening. She responded with - “I’m not sure”.. then the bell rang, and we all crowded into the doors.
It was like any other morning, we were at our lockers putting backpacks away, grabbing books for first period, and then rushing to class before the second bell.
I didn't realize anything was wrong until that second bell rang and I watched our teacher pushing in the large T.V. cart that usually meant it was a movie day. This time though something was off - her face was somber, she had been crying. She waited until we all were silent, noticing her unusual demeanor, and then finally said - "Something has happened, and it is something that will affect us all. Today we will simply be watching updates as I don't know what else to do."
She turned on the T.V. and switched it to the news.. where the images still haunt me. At this point of time there was still confusion. The first reports were coming in and the live broadcast was showing the black smoke billowing out of the first tower (8:00 am CT).
We watched in silence - not understanding what was happening. A bunch of kids trying to digest what we were seeing.. and then the second plane came into view...
I can't explain that moment, how that felt.. I am sure everyone else who witnessed that image felt the same - but the feeling is not one I can put into words.
It's like when it was just the first plane, you could still believe it was an accident. Some sort of malfunction - a horrible accident. The second plane removed any thought that this was purely accidental, and everything seemed to collapse around my little 15 year old sheltered self.
There were gasps, tears ... I heard a scream down the hall. I just sat silent, not able to look away from the screen.
The remaining hour of class was a blur.. then the bell rang.. and we moved to second period - where of course there was another t.v. and honestly I almost wished there wasn't.
I don't remember the timeline at this point - you all know how many different things were happening that day. I remember the news jumping from the Pentagon, to a debris filled field, and then back to the towers. Watching fellow humans jump from buildings as they felt there was no other choice, watching the chaos in the streets, watching the towers fall, one and then the other... I was numb.
For a bit of backstory, as this is supposed to be about where I was 18 years ago and how it felt to me - I had moved to this school the year before, as there was a school shooting at my previous school, and I no longer could walk through those doors (A post for another time perhaps). I was struggling with a slight form of PTSD, but had been handling it quite well. Even if I scanned each of my classroom doors for locks, and played out in my head every single day what my steps would be if a gunman walked into the room - other than that I was coping pretty well.
I believe that is why I just completely shut down that day. I believe I was already a bit numb, and I had already seen the evil in humans.. this one just was on such a large scale, that I just couldn't even emotionally respond. I was numb.
I remember feeling bad for not crying.. for not taking part in the discussions in the classroom. For just sitting there in silence, staring at the screen - but it is all I could do.
This is something I had first been exposed to in the coverage of the shooting at my school. The reporters rushing traumatized students right after, myself included, trying to get "the story" while putting words in my mouth. They were like mad dogs, trying to make the story as sensational as possible for their benefit. I remember watching the interviews after thinking - That’s not what I said.
That is what I remember noticing the rest of that second period class 18 years ago today - the story changing.
I remember "reporters" going from saying they saw one thing, to saying they actually saw something completely different later.. and oddly enough all the narratives now were saying the exact same thing, down to specific details.
While others were mourning, I was questioning the narrative... and yes I felt bad about that.
You can call me a conspiracy theorist, I don't really care. I was too young to even know what a conspiracy theorist was... I just remember realizing in that moment that the bias news coverage from the school shooting I had experienced the year before was not unique - this is what news was.
That was the day I stopped taking what I heard on the news as the truth.. and started questioning everything.
We carried on this routine the rest of the day - the bell would ring, we would all slowing (silently), shuffle to our next class where another t.v. was placed, and just repeat.
I do remember one room where I snapped out of it a bit. A teacher I did not care for - he was a creep. I remember he turned off the t.v. at one point, and at first a wave of relief rushed over me.
Then he started a monologue, to "prepare" us.
He said this was war - our country would never be the same, and that we could all expect to be drafted during the next few years - including the girls. This was another world after all, and unlike the last draft, the women would not be spared. He said in two years half our class would be dead, a casualty of war.. it's just something we needed to accept.
I was in disbelief of what I was seeing and hearing. I looked around at my classmates.. they were scared, some were crying .. and he just kept going.
That was the moment when my meek nature seemed to go away.. the girl who never said anything, who never talked back, who never questioned authority - she was officially gone. I threw my book at him and told him to shut the fuck up. I don't remember what else I said, I am sure there was much more than that, but that is all I remember.
I stormed out of the classroom and went next door, to a teacher I trusted, explained what he was saying and demanded her to do something. I made quite the scene. She asked me to lower my voice, and then walked me to the principles office - where I was suspended.
The teacher was removed from the classroom and sent home though, and due to harassing multiple girls in the school as well, he was asked to not come back.
I still dont regret it, even if that meant I had a suspension on my perfect record.
I don't have vivid memories of the coming days and weeks, like I do of that day. I remember being frustrated and upset by the change of the narrative, being upset that my sheltered bubble had been busted.. but I don't remember crying.
I remember trying to bring up these changes of narrative with my parents, how none of it made sense. They didn't get it.. their hardcore republican selves could not fathom that maybe, just maybe what the news was telling them was not the whole truth. They couldn't admit that perhaps we were being fed a story - it was the Muslim terrorists who hate America and that was that.
The funny thing is my family on my Mother's side is Lebanese and for some reason in those months after I wanted to embrace that more, probably an act of teenage rebellion. I remember wearing a scarf on my head, because I wanted to.. even though I had no idea what it meant and none of our family ever did the same... I was pissed at the narrative and was acting out.
I remember my mom sitting me down, upset, telling me she knew I was struggling but that I could not do this.. as this was the time where were seeing many innocent Muslims being attacked on the streets (including in the towns near us), just for how they were dressed. The media had painted a picture, and we were attacking each other out of fear.
I gave up my rebellion and just blocked it all out.
I spent the next few months just going with the flow.. but also remember reading and absorbing as much information as I could. I didn't believe the narrative - and it made me wonder what else I had been lied to about.
Many of my school mates went off to join the armed forces (including my brother a few years later). I was mad, I didn't like it - but I just stayed quiet.
I tested out of school early, graduating at 16, and moved away to go to college. I just wanted to get out of my bubble, and I believe that is partially due to the events that day (as well as the year before).
The events 18 years ago changed me - in ways I may never understand.
I know that day changed many, for all different reasons. I know many were directly affected on levels that are beyond what I can even grasp.. and I can't imagine how that felt.
That day changed many things in the United States, as well as around the world, and without trying to get too political - we lost more than lives that day - we lost our freedom and many lost that feeling of "safety" they had before.
What happened the next few years (and still continues today), I do not agree with.. but this is just a simple freewrite on my personal experience on that day 18 years ago. While I have had many discussions about it in the years after, I have never wrote anything down... I have never expressed my feelings on that day in a way like this, and this morning I just felt the urge to do so.
-Justine
