My thoughts are on Sept. 11, 2001, this morning. I have been thinking back to how utterly frightening it was when the news started to drift into the building I was then teaching in. My classroom did not have a TVor radio so I was dependent on people who came into the school for one reason or another to learn what was going on, as were the other staff members. All we knew was that a plane flew into one of the Twin Towers in NYC. Of course, we thought it was just some horrible accident, a miscommunication, something just went wrong. Soon we learned that, no, it was not an accident. America was under attack. It still sends chills up my spine to remember how awful that knowledge was and the questions it presented. Was the whole country going to be attacked? How should we care for the kids in our charge? Where in the building should we take them? As we tried very hard to keep calm and carry on as normal, I'm sure the students picked up on our fears. Our principal sent word around that we were not to take the children outside for recess. Parents began to arrive to pick up their children. We all wanted--and needed--information. And, of course, as we got that information, it was just too much to bear really. How could anyone drive a plane into a skyscraper. It was then that I fully began to understand radical extremism. Honestly, I haven't felt really safe again. It was comforting, however, to drive along block after block and see the American flag waving from almost every porch. Comforting in that it meant we were sticking together on this one. Today I am counting my blessings that I did not lose a loved one in the attack, but also feeling heartache for those who did.