Twenty years ago, I was 16 years old and a junior in high school. I couldn’t tell you how the day started or what I had for breakfast on Sept. 11, 2001, but I can tell you vividly what happened later that morning as I walked through the halls of Frisco High School during passing periods between classes.
As I walked into my chemistry class, which was usually a rambunctious group of kids, everyone stared at the television in disbelief. The first plane had crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center and as I sat and tried to process exactly what we were seeing, we watched the second plane come from behind and hit the South Tower. I remember going completely numb and nauseous as we watched this terrorist attack on our country. A voice came over the intercom and told us not to leave the classrooms we were in. And we stayed there for several hours watching the aftermath of one of the worst days in American history.