Before the tarnish
I think we all know that it's nearing a time to remember. Innocence. I think I can picture Sept. 10 like it was almost yesterday. It was still fairly nice out, not too hot, not too cold. The Indiana Indian summer was in full swing, and I was walking home from a class in Ballantine Hall. I was just getting used to seeing the same faces walking to and from my Spanish class -- the ones we never say "hi" to, but notice when they're missing. I remember that then, I had no idea what they were thinking.

