8:46 am, September 11, 2001

David Traill and I remember that morning, and all that went with it as a result. We were both teaching at South Fork High School, and the bell had just dismissed first period. I left my classroom to go to the main office, to sign in and collect whatever paperwork was in my mailbox. The office receptionist looked at me as I came in and said, "A plane just hit the World Trade Center."

I gathered my stuff and headed to Traill's room, figuring he might want to know the news. I assumed, based on the way it was presented, that a smaller plane - like a Cessna - had crashed into the building somehow, or perhaps the pilot had suffered a heart attack. As I got to Traill's room, he was standing at his door letting students in. I told him what I had heard, and he responded, "My television isn't working, let's go to your room." I said, "No problem, I'm on my planning period."

Traill, his IB History class and I made our way to my room and we turned on the television. There we witnessed the surreal events and visuals that have since become etched in the collective American soul - of the continual replay of the second airplane, of flames, of people jumping from the upper floors of the WTC to their death, of the two towers crumbling to the ground. Traill commented that Osama bin Laden and al-Queda were likely behind the attack; to the students, this may have been the first time they'd ever heard of the man - I don't know.

The talking heads on the screen never mentioned him or them; they only talked about what we were witnessing, about President Bush's presence in Florida, about the swift - and, ultimately deadly - attempts by New York's finest to try and save people. Slowly, more information began to make its way to us - a plane that clipped the Pentagon, a plane that crashed in Pennsylvania. It was a numbing, chilling effect.

Soon the bell rang. The students headed to their third period; Traill to his room to teach; and my debate students slowly worked their way into the classroom, the television still showing the images. We discussed what had happened so far; shortly thereafter, I received a notice from the front office telling me to turn the television off and go back to teaching what I normally would be teaching in the classroom. I ignored the note, and for another 20 minutes or so we continued to be mesmerized by the screen ... until the television went black. Apparently, our superintendent, in her infinite wisdom, had ordered all televisions in the entire district to be shut down. Undeterred, we turned to discussing the debate topic - weapons of mass destruction - and tied the events of the morning into the lesson.

After school got out, Traill and I went back to his place and continued to watch and listen to the events of the day. Hours later, it was still a strange, empty feeling of confusion, disappointment, sadness, anger.

Traill and I religiously relive that day, and the aftermath: the coming together of South Fork to build patriotic floats for our homecoming parade, scheduled for only nine days later; the "We the People" t-shirts and paper chains and other various fundraisers we undertook for families of the victims; our superintendent's appearance on the Today show, where she tried to defend her decision and dubbed South Fork "the other school"; and the panning of our superintendent for her actions, which included a scathing newspaper story in the Palm Beach Post where I was heavily quoted (and is attached below) criticizing her for the decision.

I was criticized by some for my stance - that I was tipping the apple cart, that I was putting my tenure and job in jeopardy by speaking out. But, I rationalized, if I was to be fired for speaking my mind about such a micromanagerial decision, I didn't want to work in that environment anyway. Administration never approached me about the story or my position; I left on my own accord at the end of the year to take an employment opportunity at Wellington.

So here it is, ten years later. I won't rehash all the governmental stupidity and ineptness that has transpired since then by both Democrats and Republicans, by Congress and our presidents. But I do remember, as we all should, the significance of the moment, one of those rare opportunities for us to mourn collectively and as individuals, and to rise above the loss to strive for a new greatness. May we continue to do so.

*****

SCHOOLS' CUTTING OF NEWS FEED DEBATED
Kathleen Chapman, Palm Beach Post Staff Writer
Thursday, September 20, 2001

Paul Gaba's 10th- through 12th-graders at South Fork High were watching news coverage of the terrorist attacks around noon on Sept. 11 when they lost the picture on their classroom television.

Martin County School District officials had decided to cut the cable feed to all schools, he said, explaining that they felt ongoing news coverage would be upsetting and disruptive.

Gaba said his bright, sophisticated students, who are discussing weapons of mass destruction as their debate topic this year, were upset and insulted, as were many teachers at the school.

"Essentially, they felt it was a slap in their collective face," he said, "that it was a statement they were not old enough or mature enough or cognizant enough to be able to discuss and analyze history. It was a grave insult to their intelligence."

The debate reached national airwaves Wednesday when Katie Couric of NBC's Today pressed Superintendent Sara Wilcox about the decision.

Wilcox defended her choice, saying she felt that each parent should get to choose how to present the attacks to their children.

Since that time, many teachers have incorporated terrorism discussions into their lessons, and Martin County High held an assembly to honor the firefighters and other heroes of the tragedy on Wednesday morning, she said.

Later, Wilcox told Couric, school officials plan to meet with teachers and parents to discuss how such events should be handled in the future.

Wilcox said last week that students were not in the dark about what had happened, merely encouraged to continue daily routines instead of sitting hypnotized by television reports - some conflicting and untrue - in the immediate aftermath of the attacks.

Also, Wilcox said, schools had to consider the possibility that some of the students watching the constant replays of the attacks might have had friends or family in the Pentagon or World Trade Center.

Nearly all the students at the high school and middle school level already knew all the facts of what had happened, and many already had seen footage of the twin towers collapsing in the three hours before the cable was shut off, teachers and principals agreed last week.

"The decision was made in the best interest of the students, to keep routine, structure and calm," Wilcox said.

Nevertheless, Peggy Harowitz, whose daughter, Kathleen, is a senior at South Fork High, said teenage students deserved access to news coverage through the day.

"I think it was important for anybody that age to see it," she said. "I think they missed feeling a part of what was happening at the moment."

Harowitz, who is a substitute teacher in Martin County elementary, middle and high schools, was 10 years old when John F. Kennedy was shot in the Dallas motorcade. She is glad now that her parents let her watch the footage of the assassination and funeral, she said.

"I remember my fourth-grade teacher coming in sobbing, and we talked about it," she said. "We knew what was going on; she didn't shield us from it."

When the space shuttle Challenger exploded in 1986, she explained what happened to her preschool-age elder daughter, now a student in college.

"There are people who are very gentle souls, who will always be so much more touched by things that go on in the world, but life is not always pretty," she said. "When a tragedy happens in their own life, they're more apt to be able to handle it because they've witnessed the other side of life."

Tim Black, who teaches a college-level American history class at the school, said the district's blanket decision infringed on his freedom as an experienced teacher to judge what his students can handle.

"It's called the First Amendment," he said.

In the end, teacher Gaba said, district officials' decision to pull the plug on the news had the opposite effect of what they had desired.

"The idea was that it was causing anxiety, fear and confusion," he said. "But it's not information that causes anxiety, it's lack of information or incomplete information that leads to assumptions."