On 9/11, I was teaching at Klein Oak, and the first attack occurred during my conference period. I heard about the first plane hitting from the school’s athletic trainer and immediately sought out more information. The Internet/cell phone service was intermittent which as frustrating and scary, and I remember walking to the library to the only television on campus with cable access to watch the coverage with about 10 fellow teachers. I remember seeing the second plane hit and first building collapse via a live news footage. The library was silent as we watched except for our communal gasp. The shock and dismay had then set in. I traveled to New York City that October. I remember how nervous I was to get on a plane and ride in the subway. I remember walking in downtown NYC next to the large tarp covered scaffoldings that surrounded Ground Zero. I remember the air still smelled like ash and burnt hair even a month later. I remember reading all the missing person signs and seeing all the makeshift memorials of candles, flowers, and stuffed animals in parks and subway stations. I remember my NYC apartment building being next to NYC medical center just a few blocks from where the bodies were brought in for identification purposes. I remember friends telling me that on 9/11 how they had to climb up three stories of stairs in the dark in order to reach ground level and then walk across a bridge to get to safety. I honestly do not like the sorrow I can still feel 17 years later as I remember that time, but I know the importance of never forgetting.