9/11

Study Hall was incredibly boring. I had the meanest teacher on the planet. Her name was Mrs. Ashmore, but mostly everybody called her Mrs. Ass-more. For the first 30 minutes of the hour and a half class, we were forced to have silent reading time. Something I hadn't had to do since third grade. For the remainder of the hour, we were to do homework. Telling her you didn't have any homework was the dumbest thing you could do. Simply because she would respond with, "Well if your teachers aren't giving you enough homework, then I'll have to give you some. And it's due by the end of the hour." As the fates would have it, she was a math teacher, which made the extra work even more excruciating.
September 11th, 2001. I headed into Study Hall, dreading the next hour and a half. The first 30 minutes slowly and painfully went by. Then, snapping me from my daydreams, a ruckus was occuring in the hallway. Intolerant of any distractions, Mrs. Ashmore went to see who was disturbing her class. Before she made it to the door, a student entered. As he stood in the doorway, he spoke to us all, "The World Trade Centers have just been hit by planes! It's on TV." "Young man, get back to your class!" Mrs. Ashmore snapped. He left. He knew this teacher's reputation. Our classroom began to buzz. SLAM! Mrs. Ashmore was glaring at us as she shut the door with force. "This is Study Hall. So if you don't have anything to study then come see me. And no more talking!" She strided back to her desk and sat with a watchful eye. And that was it. That was my experience of one of America's greatest tragedies. Sitting in Study Hall unable to speak. Of course I watched the news and was very quickly updated when I got home that afternoon. But I'll never quite forgive that teacher for removing me from such a pivotal moment in history.