September and Beyond

I was 17 when airplanes crashed into the buildings. That is all they were to me, really. Just buildings. Big buildings in the big city. Of course, I was sad about it, the adults in my high school were all sad about it, and so why wouldn’t I be? I remember Mr. Clubbs, the winsome, eccentric Speech teacher cradling the radio close and tearing up. He told us to work on our speeches, and then sat there speechless. I worked on my speech, but wasn’t sure if I should. Should I be crying? Should I be...