I generally don't discuss my feelings towards September 11th with other people, not that they are all that different from others I'd think. Thankfully I wasn't personally affected by that day other than being a shocked new yorker and American. However, today probably in being that it was a Tuesday just like in 2001 has made me think about it more than in years past.
Feel free to continue reading if you want, but what follows is an account of my day and days afterwards. For lack of a better place I post this online so I will hopefully never forget.
I had an 11:20 class, but went in early because I didn't get homework done. I never found it easy to do at home. Therefore just by coincidence this day I hopped on the 8:35 bus. I remember hearing murmurs about something, but nothing that spoke to the magnitude of what happened. Maybe something about a plane, hitting a building? I was half asleep and no one seemed excited enough to warrant my attention.
I got to school about 9:15 near the union and walked inside to study in the lounge. I happened upon another kid in my class in the lounge and we looked over each others homework. Shortly thereafter Nick (I think) came in and told me what he had heard happened. It was still somewhat early so I think details were still sketchy. It's hard to believe but I don't think the phrase "terrorist attack" was even in my vocabulary at the time. We walked out of the union and ran in to a girl, Kirsten, that Nick and I worked at the sports authority with. Chatting outside the union about what happened a security guard came over to us. Someone had left a bag unattended near the steps to the union bridge. Honestly I don't know what came of this situation as we decided it was best to leave the area, but it seems strange such a thing would happen on that day. As I was walking over to class I called (or was called by) my house and started to hear the full details of what exactly happened. At that point I decided I had to go home.
I got home and like most people watched the news until I couldn't physically watch it anymore. It's unfathomable to me to think how many people's lives changed that day.
I'm sure the days that followed were a blur of emotions. Days passed and I went back to school. I think there was a vigil there for the USB alumni who had lost their lives that day, but I did not attend.
Only three things over that time period do I recall. None of particular importance either, but I'll probably forever associate with that day and the ones following. I had met a girl (Sherry) who was in the lecture hall in Javits that I had my class, but for the 9:50 period. I spoke to her a couple times and the Thursday before invited her to grab a bite to eat with me. Being the shy person I am I thought about actually asking her to hang out, but didn't. That day was the last time I saw her. I don't think anything drastic happened to her, but who knows about her family or her emotional state after the attack. It was the start of the semester and maybe even early enough to drop all your classes if one so wished. It's pretty lame, but I've thought about this situation whenever I question whether I should ask someone (a girl usually) something. I always at least try to now.
The second feeling I remember is that of not wanting to listen to a specific album I had bought recently. Physically being unable to listen to it even. The album was "Underground Network" by "Anti-Flag" and as you can imagine by the name, a bit of a politically minded one. I was so affected I couldn't even listen to music that I loved. What a sad time that was.
Finally the third item I recall was actually an event. I went to the first mets home game played after September 11th which was of course against the Braves. Myself, my mom, Andrew P. and his dad went. The place was sold out, security was tight. Although Andrew and I as we later noticed cut about 20k people in line and walked in to the stadium after only waiting about 10 minutes. Our parents waited around 45 minutes if I recall. In what was quite possibly the greatest HR I've ever witnessed in my lifetime; Mike Piazza hit a game-winning shot in the bottom of the 8th to put the Mets ahead 3-2 after the Braves themselves had just gone up 2-1 in the top of the 8th. It was quite the contrast to 10 days earlier and I like to think a few people in attendance that night were comforted in a way they didn't think could be done.