Free Essays on After Sept 11

University of Saint Francis Will We ever be Safe Again? CONTENTS Personal Story (what lead me to my investigation) 5-8 Investigation Results†¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦9-13 Interview13-14 Interview Commentary †¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦....15 SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY 16 As I was sitting in professor Cox’s psychology 101 class, September eleventh started off as any regular day for me. I was still getting used to my first semester of being a college student but I was still able to notice something was a little different today. Surprisingly almost every student was late to class, even professor Cox who is usually one of the first to arrive. Just as I was packing up by book bag to leave, because I thought class was cancelled, Professor Cox and a couple students walked in. The persona of professor Cox was somewhat out of the ordinary though, the look on his face actually scared me. Professor Cox, being a physiologist, is usually in a positive mood beginning each class by saying good morning to each and every student and always having a huge smile on his face that seemed to stretch from ear to ear, but this morning of September eleventh many things changed. As the students started flowing into class each and everyone of them seemed to be engulfed in a deep conversation of some sort. At first I thought they were talking about a party this weekend, but I could tell by the looks on there faces that partying was the last thing on there minds. I always seemed to be the last to know everything, I really wanted to find out what everyone was talking about. In this case though, I wish I would have never known. I yelled across the room to one of my soccer teammates Mark. Mark was a year older than me and in the Army reserve. Mark came walking over to me with his freshly shaved head gleaming in the sun that seemed to peak in through the window. ‘Mark† I said, â€Å"What is going on, what the hell i... Free Essays on After Sept 11 Free Essays on After Sept 11 University of Saint Francis Will We ever be Safe Again? CONTENTS Personal Story (what lead me to my investigation) 5-8 Investigation Results†¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦9-13 Interview 13-14 Interview Commentary †¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦Ã¢â‚¬ ¦....15 SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY 16  As I was sitting in professor Cox’s psychology 101 class, September eleventh started off as any regular day for me. I was still getting used to my first semester of being a college student but I was still able to notice something was a little different today. Surprisingly almost every student was late to class, even professor Cox who is usually one of the first to arrive. Just as I was packing up by book bag to leave, because I thought class was cancelled, Professor Cox and a couple students walked in. The persona of professor Cox was somewhat out of the ordinary though, the look on his face actually scared me. Professor Cox, being a physiologist, is usually in a positive mood beginning each class by saying good morning to each and every student and always having a huge smile on his face that seemed to stretch from ear to ear, but this morning of September eleventh many things changed. As the students started flowing into class each and everyone of them seemed to be engulfed in a deep conversation of some sort. At first I thought they were talking about a party this weekend, but I could tell by the looks on there faces that partying was the last thing on there minds. I always seemed to be the last to know everything, I really wanted to find out what everyone was talking about. In this case though, I wish I would have never known. I yelled across the room to one of my soccer teammates Mark. Mark was a year older than me and in the Army reserve. Mark came walking over to me with his freshly shaved head gleaming in the sun that seemed to peak in through the window. ‘Mark† I said, â€Å"What is going on, what the hell i...