I don't remember the eleventh of September, 2001. I had just started my second week of the first grade at Uxbridge Public School, Uxbridge, Ontario. I was only six years old at the time, and I don't even remember my parents talking about it, or anyone for that matter. I was oblivious to anything going on around me besides who stole my red pencil crayon, or where I'd left my favourite plush animal, Purr.
It wasn't until I grew I little older that I learned about the twin towers. bit by bit, I pieced together the story of the high jacked planes and such - But one thing I know. I never asked anyone about it. Not to my knowing did anyone ever explain it to me. The knowledge I have today of that unfortunate event is side effect of ten years of hearing bits and pieces of the same tragic story.
And although I don't remember the day it happened, I have not, and will not forget. It's like this sign I've seen many times; the sign for the township of Muskoka. In the irony to my situation, it states 'Once discovered, never forgotten.'