It was my 10th grade year, and I was on the Flag team. Everything in my life was going pretty well. I was an average student, had great friends that I would not trade for anything, loved my school and teachers, and had just gotten a car. The world outside of Florence, MS seemed to be a far off place that I neither cared to know anything about nor wanted to visit. I never watched the news, didn't care for a newspaper, and turned the channel anytime news came on the radio. That early September morning was like every one before it. I got up, went to school and hung out with my friends, joking and playing around before first period. I had forgotten my english book at school the day before, so I was thinking that my english teacher was going to reem me when I didn't turn in my homework. When the bell rang, we all piled into the class room like the mindless drones we seemed to become while bored in class. Mr. Corry came into class unlike his usual self; he acted bothered. He was usually a happy and chipper person that early. He immediately turned on the tv and switched the channel. When the signal connected with Channel 12 News, a picture of the twin towers (with one billowing smoke) was plastered on the tv. By this time everyone had taken their seats, and directed their attention to what Mr. Corry was watching. Over the next hour, the class (usually off in their own conversations when Mr. Corry wasn't teaching) watched intently as the second plane flew into the second tower and as the reporter tried to hold their composure as our nation was being attacked. After the second tower was hit, I laid my head on my desk and just started to cry. The United States was about to change. 
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