This week, Mr. Schwartz took us through a 9/11 timeline. There was a phone message he played out loud to us--a mother leaving a message for her son, telling her son that his plane has been hijacked, and asking her son to do everything in his power to overtake the people who have hijacked the plane.
This moves me in a way I can't explain. Which explains why I started crying in class. Bawling is probably a more accurate word. I can't imagine what it would feel like to ask your blood to die--to, quite literally, send your son to his death in the name of heroism. I think a lot about love and its power--and I wonder what I would have done had I had someone in the Twin Towers or had someone in one of those airplanes.