Pam Uruburu

I was about 5 weeks pregnant, teaching my period 3 AP seniors, in a high school on Long Island, about 50 miles from NYC.  The principal’s voice came over the PA to announce that there was an accident and that a plane hit one of the Twin Towers.  At this time, there was no mention of a terrorist act.  There were some audible gasps and a buzz of conversation before the bell rang and the period was over.

When I went into the English Resource Room/teachers’ work area, I noticed someone had set up the television.  We all just stood staring at the screen, dumb-founded.  Suddenly, the first tower collapsed like a house of cards.  This time the audible gasps were mixed with exclamations of “Oh my God!”  I vividly remember crying and instinctively touching my not-yet-noticeable pregnant belly. All I could think was, “What kind of world am I bringing my baby into?!”

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