By The Communitarian

The college community gathered on Friday, September 11, to observe the 25th anniversary of 9/11 through a series of commemorative events hosted by the Veteran Services and Campus Engagement Offices. Focused on the Marple Campus, the observances invited students, faculty, staff, and community members to pause and remember the lives lost in 2001, featuring a morning tree dedication, documentary screening, and open community forums reflecting on the tragedy’s lasting impact.

The following reflections, written by current DCCC students and edited for clarity, share how they and their families experienced and remember the events of September 11, 2001.

My mom was just 26 years old when the attacks happened. On September 11, 2001, she was home alone while both her parents and fiancé were at work. She was sitting outside on her back deck drinking coffee when she overheard frantic voices, followed by an emergency broadcast taking over the television. Rushing into the house, she looked at the screen just as the second plane hit the Twin Towers. Her immediate reaction was “complete and utter panic. My heart was in my throat; I was shaking,” she said. So many thoughts raced through her head, but above all, she wondered: Was this the end of it? If not, what was going to happen next?

One of her most vivid memories was watching the second plane strike the South Tower and later witnessing both buildings collapse. She remembered the horrifying sight of people scattering on the streets below, and others leaping from the high windows to escape the flames. Feeling completely petrified, she began worrying about her fiancé, who worked adjacent to a military facility. When the news anchor announced that a plane had struck the Pentagon, her dread spiked—fearing military and government targets were being systematically attacked, especially as reports broke that another hijacked airliner was heading toward Washington.

After 9/11, her perspective on flying permanently changed. “I already feared planes,” she told me, “and this made it a thousand times worse.” The event left such a mark on her that she still keeps a storage bin filled with newspapers and special editions from September 2001. She also pointed out how dramatically airport security was overhauled in the aftermath. When I asked what younger generations should understand about that day, she said, “You never know what tomorrow may bring,” urging people to appreciate every single day because you truly never know when it might be your last.

Angelea Klambara

It was a Tuesday morning, and my family and I were getting ready to say our last goodbye to my grandmother, who had passed away a week prior. I was sixteen with a seven-month-old daughter, and I was getting her dressed to take her to daycare before the service. As we were getting ready, the news was blaring in the background—and, as always, there was something going on in the world.

After dropping my daughter off at daycare, I joined my family at the funeral. Halfway through the service, I noticed several police officers having a quiet conversation on the side. About ten minutes later, an announcement was made that the service was over and everyone needed to head home and get to a safe place. The city had declared a state of emergency, and everything was shutting down.

In the middle of all that confusion, I didn’t really understand what was happening. My mom’s face looked worried, bewildered, and lost, and I kept asking questions because I didn’t yet realize that our country was under attack.

When we finally made it home, my family sat together in front of the television, watching footage of two airplanes striking the towers in New York and reports that hundreds of people had lost their lives.

That day didn’t just disrupt our family; it left behind a deep sense of pain and anger. What was supposed to be a day of grieving turned into shock and unanswered questions. Why did this happen? Why couldn’t so many families say their last goodbyes to their loved ones? For my family, that morning remains etched in our minds as one of the worst days of our lives.

Kimmy Thomas

My mother remembered being in a study room at the Community College of Philadelphia library when a woman knocked on the glass, telling her to evacuate the building because of an incident in New York City. As she left, wondering what was happening, she headed to the Dental Hygiene clinic, where classmates and faculty had gathered around a television to watch the news unfold.

Once everyone dispersed, my mother started her drive home. People were running through the streets, and the roads were completely gridlocked; what was normally a thirty-minute commute took two hours.

Talking about 9/11 with my mother left me holding onto one specific piece of advice she gave me: “Tell your friends, family, parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, and uncles you love them. You never know when that last day will be.” So many families lost loved ones on those planes and in the towers, and I can only imagine the heartbreak and devastation they endured. We should never forget 9/11 and the profound way it reshaped our world.

Jazmin Johnson

My dad is an internet technician, and his company wanted him to work in the World Trade Center on 9/11. Thankfully, he ran into travel complications getting into New York that day and never went in. Obviously, I am deeply fortunate that things turned out the way they did.

This may be a controversial view on the subject, but when I was growing up, nobody my age really took the event seriously. Since none of us were old enough to grasp the severity of what happened, it was easy to just brush it off. Now that I am older and more educated on the topic, I realize how heartbreaking that day truly was and the profound impact it left on our society. What really woke me up was hearing the calls and voicemails from the victims: parents calling their families to say they loved them and would be home soon. Nobody expected it. When those victims kissed their children goodbye before work, they had no idea it would be the last time. Just like us, they were ordinary people simply living their daily lives.

Tisah Davis

I sat across from my mother and father in my childhood home and asked them where they were on September 11, 2001.

“I was working at Johnson & Johnson at McNeil Consumer Healthcare in Fort Washington, Pennsylvania,” my father said. He recounted how word spread through the office of a breaking news report out of New York City. As concern mounted, he and several coworkers headed up to the floor above to watch the television coverage. There, he saw a replay of the first plane hitting the North Tower.

“‘Oh my God’ was all I could say,” he recalled. Then, he watched the second plane strike live. “That was heart-stopping. Everyone began to wonder, What is really going on here?”

His manager soon encouraged everyone to head home to their families. My father immediately left to be with my pregnant mother, who was simultaneously being evacuated from Chase Financial in Wilmington, Delaware.

“No one knew how widespread the attacks would be or who else might be targeted,” my father said, remembering the overwhelming uncertainty.

“It was completely unbelievable,” my mother added. “Everybody was gathered around screens, watching the footage in pure disbelief.”

Just two days later, an ultrasound revealed that my mother was carrying twins. As she put it, “It was the worst and the best week of my life.”

Experiencing the horror of 9/11 alongside the life-changing news that they were expecting twins made that week an unforgettable chapter for my parents. They had watched a national tragedy unfold helplessly, terrified for their safety and what the future held. To my generation, 9/11 can feel like a chapter in a history textbook; but listening to my parents, I realized it remains an intensely personal, defining memory for everyone who lived through it.

Sydney Cole