I can no longer recall whether I was at home sick or "sick," but either way, I was home from school on September 11. Grammy and Papa were spending the day with me, and I was in the living room when Mom called from work. Grammy was upstairs when she answered the phone, and called down the stairs for me to turn on the TV. The first image that appeared when the TV flickered on was that of two thick, grey lines separated with a thin strip of greyish-blue. I couldn't figure out what the image was, though Grammy said that the World Trade Center had been hit. I had no idea what the WTC was. Then, the camera panned out and I realized that the grey lines were buildings, and the blue was the sky. The three of us were glued to the television as reporters covered the action. I watched the second plane hit, and though I didn't fully understand what was happening (I was eleven at the time), I knew that it was bad. Especially when people started jumping from the windows.
After a while, Grammy and Papa took me to their house for the rest of the day, and when Mom picked me up after work later that day, I remember crying most of the way home because I was afraid that terrorists would attack us. The fact that I live in an area so rural the likelihood of a plane actually hitting something other than farmland is one billion to one didn't register in my young mind.
I wish I had been older at the time, so that I would have better understood what was happening. I did understand the patriotism and unity that everyone showed, though.