Ripples of September 11, 2001
A life forever changed
The bright sun shined through the windows as I walked out of my college math class with a smile. A week into my freshman year, I was finding my footing. The professor let us out early and my mouth watered at the thought of the chocolate croissant I was going to treat myself to for breakfast.
A crowd gathered around the TVs outside the cafeteria, and I stopped at the edge, looking up to see what captivated them. A gasp escaped my lips, and my palm flew to my chest. A second plane flew into the South Tower of the World Trade Center. The day was September 11, 2001.
The rest of my 9–11 story isn’t important. I didn’t escape the towers. I didn’t dig through the rubble for victims. I didn’t attend any funerals for loved ones.
And yet, that day changed the entire trajectory of my life.
I live in a small northern New Jersey town twenty minutes (without traffic) outside of Manhattan. The iconic skyline can be seen from the street my high school sits on. According to reports, over 400,000 people commute into NYC for work from New Jersey. The bond between my area and the city is strong, which is why so many from here felt the effects of the terror attacks on September 11th.
