I remember the day vividly. Like it was yesterday. I was in the fifth grade. Our class of 48 was split into two groups, one in the library, and one in the main classroom. I was in the classroom, when one of our two teachers came in crying hysterically. She was from New York. As students we were curious why she was upset. We began asking questions and our teachers began to tell us what happened. They wheeled in TVs to the classroom as we all sat and watched. My mom came to pick me up early, and we went home, and like everyone else in America, sat in front of the TV to watch the coverage. My dad worked in the restaurant business, and had been at work all day. Around 7 o’clock that night my Dad called from work saying he really wasn’t feeling well. He had chest pain, and was very uncomfortable. My mom and I went up to check on him. I remember the atmosphere everywhere we went was so dull. After standing next to my parents as they talked my mom said I had to go to my grandparents house while she took my Dad to the hospital. Of course, I was worried sick. I later found out my Dad had a heart attack that evening. Since then my Dad has been on heart medications, and has constant check-ups with a cardiologist. We remember this day at our house. With family in New York, (which my Dad thinks contributed to the heart attack – his strong ties, and being from there) we always remember how blessed we are. We later found out that my Uncle was supposed to have a meeting on one of the upper floors of tower 1 that was cancelled 5 minutes prior to the first plane crash.

God Bless the families of those lost on 9/11/01

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