I was a sophomore in high school, and at 6:00am, my dad woke me up saying, "Maggie, someone crashed into the twin towers. Wake up." Still sound asleep I brushed him off, "Five more minutes dad." "Maggie, wake up, we're being attacked." I sprung out of bed and ran to my parents room where they had a live news feed. I remember being flooded with emotions and I just froze. My mom was at LAX where she was due to fly back east. Dad called her and she immediately jumped in a cab and headed home. My parents kept me and my younger brother out of school, since my high school was near the Port of Long Beach and San Pedro (one of the largest ports in the US) and all day I spent watching the news, frozen with shock, sadness, confusion, and so many other emotions. I can't explain it, but watching it happen was terrifying.
Three years later I moved to New York for college. There I spent four of the best years of my life, living with seven girls, 5 of whom are New Yorkers. Their recollections from that day (and days that followed) are insurmountable. Even though I wasn't in New York when it happened, I still to this day am overwhelmed with emotion when I think of it or see pictures. It brings tears to my eyes and sadness to my heart that we were attacked like that. Thank you to all the brave men and women, police officers and firefighters, medics and civilians, who risked their lives that day to save others; and to our brave men and women over seas who have fought for the last decade. I will never forget.
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