Never Forget

When I was sixteen I watched the morning news each day for one reason and one reason only: to hear the weather report so that I could choose an appropriate outfit for the day. Not that I was particularly fashionable. I simply needed to know if it would be a jeans and t-shirt or jeans and sweatshirt sort of day. I didn't actually watch the news, so much as leave it on in the background as I wandered around the house and readied myself. The 5 day forecast was broadcast about every 15 minutes so I'd be sure to return to the room at the appropriate intervals to catch the day's temperature highs and lows. On particularly busy news days some of these abundant, repetitive weather reports were cut, in extreme cases they were all ignored completely. This angered me. So imagine my rage when one fall morning absolutely no mention of the days weather conditions was made whatsoever. Each time I entered the room to check the television all that appeared on screen were images of a smoke-filled sky accompanied by the utterly confused, appalled, devastated commentary of the newscasters, which I couldn't be bothered to listen to. "What the hell!!!" I bitched at the screen. "So a building is on fire somewhere, I don't care. Just tell me if its gonna be hot or cold!" I sat on the floor and stared at the screen in anger. "Just because some sort of "disaster" is going on doesn't mean we all have to stop our lives. We still need to know the weather forecast!" But the smoky footage continued, ignoring my demands. Angry and tardy, I finally just picked out some clothes and scuffed out of the house. When I arrived at school that day the classes and halls were ablaze with chatter. Were they all pissed about the lack of weather reports also? But I soon learned what was really going on. It turns out the newscasters had refused to tell me the day's temperature because they were covering the World Trade Center attacks. All of our scheduled lessons were canceled and instead we watched the news coverage in all my classes, which was on every channel. Apparently this disaster was cause for the halting of our regular daily activities. As he explained the magnitude of what we were bearing witness to, my U.S. History teacher said something that will forever stay with me; "Your parents and grandparents all remember exactly what they were doing when they found out that JFK had been shot. Future generations are going to ask you 'what were you doing when you found out about the September 11 attacks?'" All I could think of was how I would have to tell them that I was a self-centered teenager who was pissed because this massive attack and murder of thousands of people had forced me to miss the weather report. I may not remember what I wore that day or if it was appropriate for the weather conditions, but I will never forget what a total asshole I felt like when I learned the cause of my petty anger.