I was in Junior High School, sitting on the floor of dance class when whispers began to overshadow the directions from my teacher. She didn’t seem to care much, her face showed that she was also skeptical of the conversations. A few minutes later she jogged out the classroom and into the hallway where several other instructors had congregated. When she walked back in, my friends and I could sense that something was more wrong than we anticipated. She told us what happened, that a plane had crashed into the Twin Towers. At first I thought it was an accident, call me naive if you like.
The series of events after would assure me that it was no incident. No pilot had missed the glare from 18 inch wide windows and slammed into the buildings or turned their head long enough to miss 110 stories of iron, glass and most of all, life.
By the time I had gotten home the second building had been struck and both had collapsed sending a plume of smoke nuclear like over Manhattan.
Every station on television replayed video of the planes crashing, people jumping to their deaths from high floors and how the skyscraper fell in on itself because it was designed to do so in case of emergency. My father wasn’t home yet and forget cell phones, Tower 1 had taken a mass communication antenna down with it. We didn’t hear from him until he walked through the door after walking across the Brooklyn Bridge. A bitter sweet sense of relief came over me but I was still confused, hurt and most of all–angry.
Stories from survivors flooded the airwaves; how they were told to stay at their desks or go to the roof. Those who listened, perished. From that precise moment with every emotion in my soul I formed a bundle of hatred for anyone who looked like the photos of the terrorists plastered across every screen in my home. I wanted war, I wanted vengeance! I was vulnerable and at that time President Bush knew that the majority of American’s felt just as I–what a time to strike!
I will probably never know the full details of what happened on 9/11, why it happened or who was solely responsible for it. I do know that on that infamous day, I turned to MTV to hear and see how my peers were dealing with the tragedy. TRL was on at the time and I remember the somber expressions of the video hosts.
Ja Rule called in…
Ja Rule called in (I repeat, giving you time to absorb that random statement) and immediately I thought “Who the f*ck cares what Ja Rule thinks or has to say!” I tapped the power button on my remote control but the images had already been embedded in my head.
I never laughed at a 9/11 joke until: