My 9/11 family

May 13, 2008
By Magen Kelly, Kirkville, NY

My cousin David, we called him ‘Baby David’, was a boy who loved life. My uncles adopted him when he was little. Once, in the first week of
September, my cousin and uncles were visiting Boston from Hollywood,
California, where they lived. They stayed for a week, and planned to
leave on September 10th, but something delayed them, causing them to
stay until the 11th. They didn’t know what was going to happen later
that day.
Meanwhile, on the 11th, I continued with my daily agenda. I got up,
got dressed, and went off to school. I arrived at school as I normally
would. We then started doing our morning centers, after we recited “I
pledge allegiance to the flag…”. I had to go to a math center that day.
“Mrs. Kuriger!” I yelled, not bothering with raising my hand
“Yes, Miss Magen?” Mrs. Kuriger replied, walking towards my station.
“What is five plus five?” I asked.
“Well,” she started, “ If I have five apples,” she held up five
fingers, “and you have five apples,” she put up my five fingers, “how
many do we have all together?”
It took me a while, but I finally yelled, “TEN!” Mrs. Kuriger then
helped me two more problems. Then, all of the teachers were called to
have an ‘Emergency Meeting’. About 20 minutes later, Mrs. Kuriger came
The rest of the day went by normally. At 3:00 pm the school released
us, and we ran to our busses. My bus usually drops me off at my bus
stop, at the end of the road. Today was different though. My bus
driver, instead of dropping me off at the end of the road, dropped me
off at my house. That very rarely happened. However, I just thought
that she was in the mood. I hopped off the bus (my same hyper self),
and I opened my garage door. “Wow,” I thought to myself, “Why are there
so many cars?” I thought that it was an early surprise party.
I walked through the kitchen door, preparing to be surprised. But, I
didn’t need any preparation. There was no surprise party. But I
heard faint sobs. So, I took off my sneakers, and yelled for my parents
like I usually do when I get home.
“Mom?! Are you home?” I yelled.
“Mag, I’m in here.” She replied. I followed the voice and it led me to
the living room. My whole families surrounded the television with the news
blasting in every radio and television in the house.
“Hey!” I yelled, budging through the crowd surrounding the screen.
“How come I can’t do that when I want to watch,” I paused. I saw the
screen, “sponge…bob?” I saw the television. One plane hit the big
building. Then there went another plane into the big building. I looked over at my mom. She was crying. I looked at my dad. He was crying too! I have never seen my dad cry, ever.
“Mom, Dad,” I started, “what’s going on?” No answer, until about 10
minutes later when I finally got one.
“Something. Something bad. Uncle Ron, Uncle Dan, and Baby David have
just been killed,” My mom said. Scared, I ran over to her and hugged
her. It seemed like forever before my grandma joined in too.
Even though that hug only lasted a few hours, those memories lasted a lifetime.

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