I think I might remember 9/11. It was right before my third birthday, and I distinctively remember a weird day in preschool where everybody was panicked and got picked up early, and I was waiting with the teacher until my dad showed up later. Had no idea what had happened or why until 3rd grade, and only connected that memory to 9/11 later on. I asked my parents who picked me up and whether they were late to confirm, and it was my dad who picked me up, and he was late (apparently they were briefing my brothers on not freaking me out).