I'm not sure where to even begin for this post. It has been a difficult morning. Jarrod and I woke up to watch the ceremonies remembering those lost on September 11, 2001. I remember that day so vividly, as I know everyone in my generation and those before do as well. As I watch these people remembering their loved ones and see young children who were only babies when they lost a parent that day, I can't help but cry. It's so heartbreaking to remember the feelings of fear and pain and outrage of that day. I think about how much that day has affected me, and I wasn't even personally involved in it. It's the collective feeling of being an American and America was attacked. It feels personal to me.
On that day in 2001, I was in my sophomore year of high school and would have been in first period Yearbook when the first plane hit, but at that time, so word had gotten to us, of course. I then went to second period Spanish and it was after that class that I first found out about it. I walked out of my class and a friend of mine caught up with me. He was an office assistant for second period, so he'd heard what was going on from the office staff. He asked me if I'd heard the news, that the World Trade towers had been bombed and there was a fire at the Pentagon, because that was what was being reported at the time. It had to be around 9:45am that I found out.
I continued on to third period History, and being only 15, did not understand the weight of what was happening. I remember walking into class and making some joke like, "We're all going to die!" and the classroom was buzzing as everyone had just found out. My teacher walked in a minute or so later and told us, "You guys don't understand the severity what's going on right now." I remember the classroom going silent. We all went into the classroom next door because it has TVs in it and started watching what was happening. The rest of the day is somewhat a blur. I remember standing there watching live as the towers fell. We were all in disbelief and tried to comprehend what was happening. I think we stayed in there for the duration of that period and then the school called an assembly in the auditorium.
I stopped by my mom's room, because she had just started teaching there and her classroom was nearby. I don't remember what we talked about, but I remember feeling better having spoken to her. At the assembly, I remember coming together and watching more on a projected screen and our teachers trying their best to help us understand and praying for those involved.
I can't believe it has been 10 years since that day. Seeing video of that day still hurts. Remembering those feelings at the age of 15 is still haunting. It's still difficult to understand that there are people out there in the world who would want to hurt you for no reason, at least any reason that would make sense to you. I wonder how the world would be different today if this had never happened. Are we a stronger country today? We are at least are more prepared for whatever threats may come against us. Are we more unified as a people? Probably not. But on this day we are. Today, as a collective people, we remember those whose lives were needlessly taken. We remember those who gave up those lives in order to save those they could. We think of those who lost those they loved the most.
And today is a day when these thoughts are in the front of our mind, but even as we continue from here, we'll never forget.
