Real Talk

It was my second week of eight grade.  My school had recently installed a television in our classroom.  Just before 9 o’clock my teacher got a phone call and the look of horror on her face was forever engrained in my memory.  I didn’t understand the essence of the tears swelling in her eyes.  As she turned on the local news I saw smoke emitting from a tall building.  I had no idea the name of the building.  I had become desensitized to such images because of the “special effects” I’d seen in blockbuster movies.  I didn’t realize the calamity of the attacks.  I didn’t realize the impact these acts of terrorism would have on my life.  The impact they would have on the country from that point forward.  As I walked back home that afternoon and heard the helicopters and fighter jets zooming above me I became engulfed in…

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