User blog comment:Magic26/september eleventh/@comment-1228137-20110911155004

I was seven at the time. I didn't even know about it until my mom picked me up that day. I remember that, the teacher read us "Froggy Goes to School" that day. When my mom picked me up from school, she seemed really upset. I don't think she was crying, but I remember that she looked really scared. What she said to me was, "I have some bad news." I asked her if someone died, and she said yes. Being pretty young, I thought it was my aunt or my grandma, or someone we knew. She explained to me what happened...and I didn't understand it, at first. I didn't understand what was going on, and what was happening.

I don't cry often. September 11th is the exception. And, what really pisses me off is when the school holds some kind of memorial, and the kids don't care. I was standing around, watching at our school dropped a giant flag down the side of our tallest building. That was an emotional moment for me. A proud moment. But it didn't last, because some jackass in the crowd decided it was be cool to joke about how our school is right next to an airport. Looking around, everyone was talking about the weekend and the mall, and meaningless crap like that. It makes me angry, it really does. They cheered when the flag dropped down the side of the building, but it was such a hollow cheer...it depressed the hell out of me.

I hope that those of us on here who are American, can stand shoulder to shoulder on this day, and appreciate how fortunate we are to have been born here. Those of you that are Canadian, Polish, Brazilian, ect., I hope you will reflect for a moment on the events that occured ten years ago. Victims from the attack came countries besides the United States. It wasn't American history, that day. It was world history.