I was 6 at the time. They only thing I knew about the numbers 911 was to not dial them on the phone unless there was an emergency. September 11 happened to be a day when our school had a late start. Everyone was asleep. My uncle from Taiwan gave my parents a wake-up call and told them to turn on the TV. Needless to say, that scene was more potent then their coffee.
They decided that a 6 year old wouldn't be very happy to be woken up to see the horrific incident that he wouldn't understand, so I continued to sleep. They woke me up at my normal time, the same way they usually do. Even at that young age, I still knew that something was forced about how they acted as they made breakfast and sent me to school. My parents mentioned nothing. Neither did my teacher.
I don't remember when I discovered what had happened that day. I don't remember any feelings of shock, anguish, or anger. I was probably too young to remember anything. It's probably for the best.