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Growing up, I heard countless times older generations talk about how they would never forget where they were, what they were doing and what they felt like when President John F. Kennedy was assassinated.
It was a landmark moment in their lives, as well as a turning point in the nation.
I never knew exactly what that day must have felt like for them until Sept.11, 2001.
I was a senior in college at the University of Kentucky. Like most mornings, I was running behind as I was trying to get up out of bed and get to my first class of the day.
Usually, I would simply put my contacts in, grab something to take to eat with me and head out.
For some reason, I turned on the TV that morning. What I saw will be something I will never get out of my mind.
One of the World Trade Center towers was filled with flames and smoke as newscasters were scrambling to figure out what had happened.
My first thoughts were, ‘What a horrible accident! How could a plane get so close to downtown New York?’
The thought of terrorism never entered my mind. The fear of somebody miles away hating you and wanting to take your life for who you are, what you believed and where you lived had would not seep into my consciousness until the dust had settled from that day.
As the news reports continued, I flipped from channel to channel, wanting to find out the latest information. Class did not matter anymore.
With my eyes glued to the screen, I saw an image of what appeared to be another plane come into view.
My mouth agape, I stared as that second plane hit the second tower.
I felt confused and afraid.
What was going on?
When news of the plane striking the Pentagon and then another plane crashing into a Pennsylvania field, that fear turned to panic.
I was afraid to leave my apartment.
I was terrified what would be outside my safe haven if my walked into this changed world where nothing felt secure anymore.
Finally convincing myself that Lexington, Ky. was a far cry from New York
City of Washington D.C., I walked to campus to catch the second half of my class.
No one was there. No sign was posted announcing that class was canceled.
I went home and continued to watch TV for what felt like two days straight.
No matter what new information was released, nothing seemed to make sense.
Still, to this day, the senseless acts of violence that took place 10 years ago, feel like a nightmare you can’t wake up from.
Like all tragedies, you gradually learn to live your life, but the images of that day will forever be etched in my brain.
(Bryan Marshall is the staff writer for the Grant County News. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org)