…there was a new teacher who was in the first weeks with a brand new class of spirited and sweet 3rd grade students. The day was just beginning and the class was reading and trying to quell the excitement of being new 3rd graders. They were all also thinking about the birthday celebration that was to happen later to an extra excited little girl. All was right with the world in a small town in north Georgia. Just then a friend of the teacher came into the room with a very strange look on her face and said something quietly to the teacher. Apparently, a plane had run into one of the tall buildings in New York. The teacher thought that it was a shame and a tragedy for the pilot and hoped that no one in the building had been hit. Surely the plane just clipped the building. Of course the truth was much worse. And they did not live happily ever after
Ten years ago, I was that teacher in that classroom. Not much time passed before my colleague came back into the room and told me that a second plane had crashed into the World Trade Center and that neither of them were small planes as we both originally thought. Like most of us, I spent the next few days and weeks saturating myself with the coverage of that horrific event. And like that little girl’s birthday celebration, our lives were, have been, and will be overshadowed by it.
Happy Birthday A.L., wherever you are!