Every generation has one occasion that defines their era – a watershed moment where everyone remembers what they were doing when they heard about it for the rest of their lives. For the previous generation it was when they heard about Kennedy’s assassination, for ours it was 9/11. I remember it was a Tuesday as I was in my Combined Cadet Force uniform, a rather itchy and uncomfortable blue jumper with starched wool trousers and a beret that was a little too small. I remember my friend Michael leaning over to me in class to tell me his mum, a journalist at the Guardian, had texted him saying New York had been attacked. I remember having to sit through an entire lesson before we were allowed to go and turn on the TV in the Year 9 common room. I remember our common room full and silent with boys cross legged on the floor, leaning against walls all watching the TV in the corner of the room. And I still remember that chill down the spine I got when the second plane hit that I still feel just as vividly today when I see the footage of the Twin Towers.
When I was 15 and I had no idea I would go on to study America at university four years later at uni, let alone live there for a year. Did spending four years studying US history and politics help me comprehend better the atrocities committed on that day? Possibly, but I’m not sure that’s the point. Ten years later that chill down my spine reminds me of the acts humanity is capable of – both of compassion and destruction – and of how precious life is. My thoughts go out to everyone who lost friends and family 10 years ago today.
Where were you when you learnt of the attacks?
For those of you in London, a memorial concert for September 11 will be held in Grosvenor Square from 6pm tonight
