Excerpts From My Fourth Grade Diary
Most of us remember exactly where we were and what we were doing the day the Twin Towers fell.
Name: Kathleen DelGrande
Age: 10 and three-quarters.
Time: 9 AM.
Location: My fourth grade classroom.
As a ten year old I thought the world was a magical place, full of wonder and innocence. On September 11, 2001, my innocence and childhood was stripped from me, as the image of people jumping to their deaths, off of the collapsing Twin Towers, would forever be engraved in my memory.
That day I saw everyone act in a way I never had before. Growing up in a household where I was never allowed to watch TV during the week, suddenly, I now had to sit and watch a slide show of horrific images that were being continuously played on every channel, it seemed like. I was scared. All I saw was smoke, and then people started running, running to find their friends and family, never stopping to look back until they reached safety. That day America became a family, a community that was willing to help each other, and a shoulder to lean on.
I picked up a pen and started writing, writing everything down until my hand hurt from squeezing it too tight. I thought that maybe the world still was a magical place, where my words would somehow lift off the page and reach someone in need. I hoped my words would empower someone, anyone, and give them even the smallest bolt of energy so they would be able to go back out there and save lives.
Since that day I’ve learned the power that words can have on people. We are beings that have used storytelling as a means of communication for centuries. As a journalist, I not only strive to report a story accurately, but also through my select choice of diction, compose a visual and emotional connection for the reader.