On September 11, 2001, I was a junior in high school in Washington, DC. I had second period free, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one to think much of it when the fire alarm suddenly rang as I caught up on homework by my locker on the Pink Floor.
As the students gathered on the lawn, in accordance with our standard fire drill practice, I got my first inkling that something might actually be wrong: the Headmistress never participates in fire drills. What is she doing here? And why isn’t she smiling?
In the moments that followed her brief comments about what was happening in New York City, our lives — and the world at large — changed forever. We went on lockdown as the Pentagon was struck, and we comforted each other as we worried for parents and watched the smoke rise in the distance. Which target might be next? How were we going to get to our homes? When would phones work again so we could check in with loved ones?
I don’t need to recap that day any further. We all had similar experiences – especially those of us who were in DC or NYC. But that’s not what I’m here to talk about.Continue reading