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Originally Posted by DuFresne
On 9/11, I was in 8th grade. I was home that day faking sick...
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I was doing the same thing when the Columbia blew up.
I kind of avoided the "feelings" thing altogether, I guess. I was at work, and my dad called to tell us what he'd heard on the radio. I brought a TV out front, and the rest of the work day was spent glued to the tube. My initial shock stemmed from knowing absolutely nothing about why it was happening or what might come next. The anger I felt wasn't patriotism or bloodlust, though I let it out as such at first. I was angry at myself for my own ignorance and complete lack of context, though I expressed impotent anger toward "whoever was responsible."
I never bought a flag in fabric, sticker or pin form. While I recognize some people displayed such things before 9/11, I didn't want to count myself among those that flagged up as if in prayer for some generic American answer to some unknown tragic question. I tried my level best to take responsibility for whatever my part in it was. That was the day I set out to learn to be an adult. Prior to 9/11/1, I knew nothing about government or the world out side my immediate sight. I felt like the world had suddenly become so small I could grasp it, and that's what I'm still trying to do today.
I remember, more than anything else, an amazing feeling of wonder as I watched the events of that day unfold. I felt like a child to whom everything is new and unexplained. I've learned a lot since then, but today I still feel wonder more than anything else.