Sept. 11: IU students, professors reflect on the day

At 9 a.m. Sept. 11, IU History Professor Irving Katz was sitting at his kitchen table, perusing the New York Times and eating his customary breakfast of an orange and a bagel with lox and cheese, when the phone rang. It was his daughter calling from Manhattan. Her voice was trembling.\n"Dad, something terrible has happened -- two planes hit the World Trade Centers," she said.\nAt first Katz thought she had said "cranes," because construction is always rampant throughout the lower east side of New York, but when reality sank in, he was furious. \nHis first instinct was to go to his closet, put on his old military uniform, report back to his infantry unit and personally wreak vengeance on all responsible parties. \nInstead, he snapped on the television and proceeded to watch, in shock and anger, what the rest of the country would watch in a similar fashion. \nUnlike some professors, Katz held class, and almost everyone showed up. He said the class listened attentively as he lectured on the background of Islamic and Muslim terrorism. \n"I studied Middle East for about half century, and all you need is a murderer who's a clergyman to justify murders by claiming it's a holy cause," Katz said.\nSenior Sebastian Tejeda didn't attend the lecture because he couldn't catch his flight back from the Logan International Airport in Boston. He was born and raised in New York, so he drove a rental car to his friend's house, where he planted himself in front of the TV and watched the news.\n"It was the most dramatic thing I've ever seen," Tejeda said. "I couldn't handle it. I didn't know how. I couldn't fathom it. I knew what was going on; I just wasn't ready to accept it. That night I sat on the couch and had a pretty big cry."\nSenior Ari Weichman immediately realized the magnitude of the situation when he heard the news on the radio. He immediately thought of his cousin, who lived and worked near the World Trade Center.\nWeichman tried calling him repeatedly, but his cell phone was getting erratic reception because all of the signals were jammed with other people trying to contact family and friends.\nEven at the end of the day, when he found out his cousin was OK, he was still more concerned about his safety than what had happened. \n"I'm sure it would have been different if any of my family members had been killed, but I was still worrying about whether my cousin would flip out and go crazy," Weichman said. "He wanted to move back home." \nOnce everything had settled down and he had more time to think about it, Weichman became more upset.\n"None of those people had anything to do with what they were mad about. They were innocent," Weichman said. "They didn't do anything that directly affected the Taliban. They shouldn't have done it, but since they did, they should've stuck to the government buildings where people make the decisions that piss them off."\nSome students had difficulty handling the situation because they were at class and didn't know exactly what was happening.\nSenior Katie Bowman, a deacon for the University Lutheran Church, attended all five of her classes that day. Only one professor canceled class. The other four talked about it a little bit at the beginning but then carried on -- business as usual.\n"I was upset about it, as were most of my classmates," Bowman said.\nBowman was upset throughout the day and went to a greek InterVarsity vigil that evening. She said everyone there seemed numb, and they had to keep telling themselves to hold onto the promises God gave them in the Bible -- that everything happens for a reason and God would make something good come from it.\n"I think the good that came from it was that it made a lot of people realize their time here is short," Bowman said. "Especially in college when we feel like we're invincible. And the outpouring of support is wonderful to see"