Sept. 11: 'We Wanted Kids to Feel Safe'

Sara Acuff had been principal at Oakton Elementary School for one week when planes struck the World Trade Center and the Pentagon on Sept. 11, 2001.

Teachers had been receiving bits of news through text messages and phone calls, so Acuff decided to turn on a television in the computer lab to see exactly what happened.

Like many, she first believed a plane lost control and ran into one of the Twin Towers. She allowed a few sixth-graders to watch the news, as well.

"I thought it was an accident, but also historical, so I wanted the older kids to see it," said Acuff, who retired from FCPS in 2006.

As soon as she realized what was really going on — especially after hearing about the Pentagon — she made sure the televisions were turned off.

"We knew we had military parents at our school, but we had no idea if they were at the Pentagon or what, so we tried not to upset the kids," Acuff said.

Throughout the rest of the day, Acuff did her best to hold the school together. With no precedent on how to handle this type of tragedy, Acuff relied on the feedback from Fairfax County Public Schools and her mentor, Dale Brooks, principal at Waples Mill Elementary School.

She did not want to frighten the kids, so she tried to keep the day moving along as it normally would have. But it was difficult for her to ignore the tears in teachers' eyes, or think about just how many kids in the school likely had parents or other family in the Pentagon.

One of the first decisions made by then-Superintendent Daniel Domenech was to keep students in school, if possible, said Paul Regnier, a spokesperson for Fairfax County Public Schools. Regnier worked in communications on 9/11, as well.

"We wanted kids to feel safe and not feel concerned about this, and that was up to the principal," Regnier said. "We figured the safest place for kids to be was in school."

Some Oakton Elementary parents showed up to pick up their children, but the school did not experience it as much as other schools. In fact, most parents who showed up at the school, came to offer their help to the staff, Acuff said.

"Teachers were anxious because they were getting all this news through their cell phones," Acuff said. "Having the extra help was a great comfort for us."

Students were released from school at the normal time, and teachers talked to the students on the bus, asking the older students to look after the younger ones. Each student left with the school's phone number in hand just in case a child came home to an empty house, something bus drivers were charged with making sure didn't happen.

Acuff waited at the school for any phone calls about unattended children, but none came. Neighbors had pitched in to take care of kids whose parents were not home.

Throughout the day, Acuff had been worrying about her own family. She had an elderly mother who she wanted to make sure felt safe. Her family had been trying to get in touch with her son-in-law's brother, who worked in the Pentagon. He survived. He had been standing 25 feet from the blast.

Regnier recalled stories of parents who worked at the Pentagon finding transportation and showing up at schools, sometimes with soot-covered uniforms, to reunite with their families because they knew the schools would be where they could best get in touch with their loved ones.

"The attacks had a very direct effect on our school system," said Regnier, pointing to a list FCPS kept of missing, injured and deceased family members — which included people in both the WTC and Pentagon — of students and faculty. "And just like in other parts of the country, there were effects that were less direct. People were obviously concerned everywhere."

Grief and psychology services became available to students and employees when school reconvened Sept. 13.

On Sept. 12, 2001, Acuff arrived at Oakton Elementary, which was closed to students. She walked through the halls of the school alone, and felt "overwhelming sadness and absolute amazement that those buildings could collapse." That same day, she put her feelings into words through a poem titled "America is Quiet Today."

America is quiet today
More than quiet, angry
More than angry, sad
More than sad, devastated
But as the dust literally settles, I search for wisdom.

As a teacher, how to explain to children,
That America is quiet today,
How to prepare them
For the noise of fear and anger,
How to live with reality, I search for wisdom.

As I walk the quiet halls of my school
America is quiet today
Erie, unnatural, and encompassing
Contemplating the why and what now?
Seeking answers that are many hours away.

Our greatest thinking takes place in quiet,
So America is quiet today,
And from that quiet will rise prayers,
Decision, actions, words and hope,
Out of the silence will be strength.

by Sara J. Acuff

Correction: This article has been corrected to show Dale Brooks was principal at Waples Mill Elementary School on Sept. 11, 2001. Incorrect information was provided.