On the sunny, clear morning of Sept. 11, 2001, I was sitting with my 2-year-old in the sandbox at the Water Tower when my friend Audrey joined me with her 2-year-old and said that something strange had happened, a plane had flown into the World Trade Center. We couldn’t imagine how this had transpired, or why, but it must have not fazed us too much as we went into our “Mickey Music” class. At some point during or after the class, we must have heard something more and we went to her house only to watch the second plane hit on television. This was in the first days of kindergarten for …
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On the sunny, clear morning of Sept. 11, 2001, I was sitting with my 2-year-old in the sandbox at the Water Tower when my friend Audrey joined me with her 2-year-old and said that something strange had happened, a plane had flown into the World Trade Center. We couldn’t imagine how this had transpired, or why, but it must have not fazed us too much as we went into our “Mickey Music” class. At some point during or after the class, we must have heard something more and we went to her house only to watch the second plane hit on television. This was in the first days of kindergarten for both our eldest children, in different schools but the same predicament; we scrambled to bring the kids home.
We have continued to share our horror and sadness every year since.
Amma Napier
Chestnut Hill
