I remember...

7 years ago those planes hit the towers.

I awoke and dressed for school. I wore a black skirt, red blazer, and heels. Todd dropped Madison at her babysitter, and I drove to school listening to a CD instead of the radio. I always listened to the radio, but that day I just didn't. No reason. I arrived at school and didn't check my email. I always checked email first. Instead, I set up for a lecture and lab on Protein Synthesis. Overhead in place, lab equipment set, I finally sat down to my computer. The first email I opened read "a plane just accidently flew into the tower in New York." I didn't understand. I had a TV in my room, so I turned on the news and watched the events unfold as my students entered the classroom.

Together, we didn't understand. We thought it was an accident, a terrible terrible accident. We tried to make sense of how something like this could have happened. I muted the TV and started my lesson. In the middle of RNA Transcription, one of my students gasped as another plane hit the building. We stopped and watched the news again. We still thought there was something wrong with the planes. We still thought it was an accident.

Again, I muted the TV and continued my lesson. We got to RNA translation I think-and another plane hit the Pentagon. I felt it hit my chest. We closed our books. I sat in a student desk with my kids around me, and we just watched. Now we knew; this was no accident. One student started crying. Another tried to figure out who and why this was happening. They all asked me their questions. They all expected me to have the answers.

Those kids knew me well. This was the second time I had the opportunity to teach them; I had them when I taught 7th grade. They watched me co-teach with some of my best friends. They knew my passion, my love for them and my job. It was because of these kids that I had the courage to move to the high school to teach Freshman Biology. I knew I would have these kids, and I looked forward to it. We were old friends, and I didn't want to let them down. I wanted to have those answers too.

The bell rang, and first period ended. My kids left my classroom, and my conference period began. Like everyone else in the country, I got on my cell phone and began to check in with my people. First, I had to know if my dad was in the air. He flew for Delta, and I had no idea where he could be. I had no idea if he was at work or out golfing. It took over an hour, but eventually I talked to him. He was home. He was safe. I started shaking. Next, I called my babysitter. I told her I would be home as soon as I could. She was upset. Finally, I drove over to my old school and hugged my old friends. I needed a safety net. We all needed a safety net.

The bell rang again, and third period started. Another class of kids entered my room, and we talked through the day's events. We prayed, and again, I tried to start my lesson. An announcement was made. We had to evacuate the building; there had been a bomb threat. We gathered ourselves and made our way outside. There were no planes in the air. We waited and waited. Chaos. Organized chaos. Finally, the school day ended.

I sprinted to my car, blasted the speed limit, and raced to get Madison. I could not to get her fast enough. I needed to see her, hold her, and let her know that everything would be ok. She was 3 months old. I scooped her up and drove home. I called Todd and asked him to come home early. I called my dad and asked for an explanation. I looked at Madison and hoped for safety.

I know the days and weeks that followed were surreal for everyone. American flags sold out. Everyone was proud to be an American. Firemen flocked to New York. Everyone prayed for survival and reunion. It was a humbling day seeing our Country attacked. It was a sobering day seeing our kids scared. I think of those kids every year on September 11th. I remember our naked skies, and I pray we remember our naked eyes. I am still in awe of our delicate life, and I will always be proud to be an American.