The day started like most others for me, I was the nurse/receptionist at a private school in Fort Worth at the time. The school bell had rung and students were heading to classes and the usual tardy students were coming by my desk for their slips to enter class. Then there were lunch orders to count and the phone calls to answer.
Then the admissions director came rushing out to my desk saying that a plane had crashed into one of the World Trade Center towers in New York and the Pentagon had been hit by a plane, but it might have been terrorists trying to hit the White House. I remember looking at her incredulously and then as she heard about the second tower being hit, we realized something bad was happening, something we'd never experienced.
I had no TV or radio at my desk, so I relied on her updates until the phones began to ring; parents hearing about the terrorist attacks as if by instinct, wanted to call and check on their children. The calls came closer together until I had to have help answering the phones as we could not keep up with the calls. Parents wanted to come by and pick up their children, there was just some kind of comfort for them knowing their children were home with them safe, they hoped. It was that kind of effect I remember. Parents really didn't know what might happen next but they wanted to be in control of their child's safety, to be able to comfort and reassure their children for themselves. Eventually the principal closed school for the day.