I was twelve years old on September 11th, 2001. My mom woke me up with news: "Honey, there's been trouble in the middle east for years, and we've known something was going to happen. It finally has..." That's how I learned about air planes being turned into bombs.
Tall One and I watched the news with my parents. I don't know how Tall One felt, but I didn't feel any emotion about it. I was angry with myself for not being angry with those who had murdered so many people -- it turned out I was simply numbed by the news. In time, though (a few days tops), I was through being numb, and thoroughly unhappy with what had happened. I think that writing in my diary helped me work through it. Writing does wonderful things for me.
Also, I got some new heroes; all those who risked their lives to save people in the aftermath of the crashed air planes.
I'm really not sure what else to say, though I want to recommend that you read Magaly's post about September 11th. She has an interesting perspective on it that makes you think. Not that my thinking has gotten anywhere yet, but it's opened up my eyes to another aspect of that day. It makes me feel like I ought to write some kind of really deep post, but I just don't have it in me today. lol Maybe another time.
Hmm, but maybe I do want to make one comment about something that changed in me because of that day. You see, Tall One had this Star Wars video game in which we liked to blow up civilian buildings and houses. Why? Because we could, and we didn't lose any points for it. But after that horrible day, I couldn't any more. I just couldn't.