I remember it well. Fourth grade, lunch in the cafeteria. The teachers all sat on the stage to eat. Someone came in and handed one a note. She broke down crying and handed it to another. All five of them got up and ran out. Thirty minutes later, we were all dismissed, and I walked home to find my grandparents at the house watching the news with my mother. It was the first time I ever saw my mother crying. The three of us kids were told to get a snack, sit down, and watch TV as history unfolded. It was sad.