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It was pretty early in the morning that September Tuesday. I was a brand-new principal; you all were about eight or nine years old, just about the age when long-term memories begin to stick in your head. I walked out into my assistant’s office; she was turning on the television to see what was happening in New York City, where an airplane had apparently accidentally struck one of the Twin Towers. We silently prayed and wondered what had caused such a disaster when a second plane struck the other tower. It was instantly clear that terrorists had murdered hundreds, even thousands of persons. I got on the public address and we prayed together as a school for the victims and even the terrorists.

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