To set up the scene, I was in 3rd grade, and I went to a private catholic school. It was about 11AM when our whole class got word of what happened for the principal came on the intercom and gave us a brief summary of what happened. Not much was said on the intercom because her voice would be described as scared or sad. My class was then escorted to the cafeteria where every other student was being sent also. Maintenance set up the rolling TVs on the 4 sides of the cafeteria and turned on the news. As I recall, the TVs were on for only a few minutes before the TVs were turned off because of the extreme chaos and the lack of words of all the students. Minutes later, 3 of the campus priests came to the cafeteria from the Church, and the priests started the rosary. After all 5 decades, everyone was silent. We all went back to our homerooms and the one thing I most distinctly remember is one of my friends in my class getting a call on the intercom to come to the front office to see the principal. We all knew nothing good would come out of this. He came back 20 minutes later trying to hide his tears, which wasn't so successful. No one was stupid enough to ask him what had happened so we let it slide. Years later in 7th grade, a discussion about 9/11 came up in history class. The same friend raised his hand, answered the teacher's question and ended with, "My uncle was a firefighter that went into the towers and it fell while he was in there." He then politely walked out the room, causing the room to become dead silent. I couldn't not feel bad for him. Death blackens our insides. @Hassam , sufficient?
