September 11, 2001 was another warm, late-summer day for me here in Memphis as I woke up and ate breakfast and got ready for another day at Melrose High School, where I attended until the end of the 2001-02 school year.
Not too much of anything out of the ordinary was happening at school, except for a four-page paper I had due for my Honors English class and some homework for my Algebra class that I had to turn in for extra credit.
During my second period Honors English class, we did not hear anything about any planes or terrorists attacking New York City or Washington D.C.
Of course, at the time, we figured someone would be crazy as a bat to attack the two most important cities in our country.
With planes.
Right after I left Mrs. Wilburn’s class to head to my U.S. Government class, there was no type of strange news coming about planes hitting the World Trade Center or nothing of that nature.
Too far-fetched, right?
When I entered my U.S. Government class, the grainy reception that my teacher’s television had showed me something that I thought was nothing but some simulated thing that they show on cable news networks like CNN and Fox News.
But when I looked again, I realized that this was no movie.
This was the end of our innocence as a nation.
My innocence as a 16 year-old kid in Memphis.
That whole class period my teacher and us spent the whole time discussing what was going on in New York and in Washington and why did these people come to our country to attack with passenger planes.
The hysteria that was felt at that point wasn’t compared to the hysteria that was felt in my fourth-period class when my Economics teacher, Mrs. Martin was panicking because first of all, her brother was a pilot on US Airways and we just found out that a plane came down in some small town not too far from Pittsburgh called Shanksville, Pa.
Which was headed for the White House.
And that with the help of the passengers on the plane, the terrorists’ devious plan got foiled due in part to the bravery of those people on Flight 93.
The thing we would find out later from my Economics teacher was that her brother was in Charleston, South Carolina and was in good condition.
And not too long after that, the towers that Snoop Dogg infamously stepped on, the towers that was the first thing that came to our minds when we thought of New York City, was nothing more than a huge billow of smoke coming down.
The only things that I remember most from that day was that for the first time in my life, there were no planes flying over our neighborhood, which was not too far from the airport.
The corner store at Haynes and Park, where I spent my time buying candy and other types of junk food and would hear a many argument, was deadly silent.
When I got home, the sounds of Juvenile and Nelly was replaced with the sounds of Ray Charles’ “America the Beautfiul” on K97.
TRL was replaced with Dan Rather’s reporting and disturbing footage of the Twin Towers coming down.
Our lives would change forever.
In the last five years, we’ve gone from a country in shock and horror to a country that has been in an unwanted war.
We’ve been divided, yes, but still the cowardly acts of what occured on September 11,2001 will forever be a part of our American fabric.
For my generation, it was our Pearl Harbor.
Our JFK.
Our Martin Luther King.
And I close with this question to you, the reader.
Where were you that day?
