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What I Wore

In my high school history class the teacher tried to explain to us the impact of JFK’s death. To a bunch of students, preoccupied with acne and concerned with the passing of notes in between classes, it was hard to imagine the nation being shaken to its core by a single event. Our teacher told us to go home that night and ask our parents where they were, what they were doing, and what they were wearing the day JFK was assassinated. My mom, to my astonishment, had precise answers to each question.

When the second plane hit the world trade center, I looked down and made a mental note: Dirty couch in theater class. Pink and orange striped t-shirt.