i remember this day. i was in 5th grade art. they told us to close the door, turn the lights off, and turn the tv on. i was 10 years old sitting there, staring at the tv with tears streaming down my face as i watched the horror of these buildings collapsing only thinking about all the people inside. my mom came and picked me up an hour later. we came home turned the tv on and sat there with awe on our faces hoping we wouldn't get the phone call we were dreading.  my uncle was a ny firefighter. he was on the crew that was called first to the towers. He saved many lives but couldnt save his own. Got the phone call we never wanted to get. A few hours later my cousin in boston called us. My older cousin was flying to LA for a buisness conference. he was on the first hijacked plane. He crashed into the world trade center around 845 between floors 93 and 99. He did not survive. This is a very important day to my family. please say a prayer and never forget this day in history.