I was late to school on September 11, 2001. I was in 6th grade, and my mom was driving me to school when I heard the the radio dj, a woman who was typically peppy in the mornings, report somberly about a plane crashing into a building in New York City. I remembered being confused by the gravity in her voice. I asked my mom if she was joking, and she responded quietly, “No, sweetheart, she’s not.” It’s something I will never forget.