Nine Years Later

It's hard to believe that a single event can have so much impact on our daily lives and how when something like that happens, every detail can be remembered. When I look back at September 11, 2001, I feel like I am remembering frames from a movie, not my life. I remember the emotions of that day: astonishment, anger, fear, sorrow, pride and the feeling that I needed to help in any way I could.

I woke up that morning and went to the Miller's to babysit since I didn't have classes that day. The baby was still asleep and I had dozed off on the couch when my mom called my cell phone. She asked if I was watching TV. No, I responded. After I turned it on, I just sat there in disbelief. Was this some joke, like a modern day "War of the Worlds" broadcast that had caused so much panic decades ago? No, this was reality. We just sat on the phone together in disbelief, neither of us needed to speak. We both understood the tragedy that we were watching unfold before us.

I watched the newscasters replay the video if the first plane as it flew into the first tower. Then, in astonishment, the world watched as the second plane flew into the other tower. How could this be happening to us- to US?!

As the world was watching the smoke and flames, the cameras were filled with crying, screaming people running for their lives in a dusty, hazy New York City. An unimaginable panic filled those surrounded by the terror that day. As the brave members of FDNY were entering the towers to usher people to safety, they had to dodge panic stricken people who chose to risk jumping from such great heights rather than deal with the flames, smoke and unearthly hot temperatures of the burning jet fuel.

I watched as the first, then second towers fell. In disbelief I sat on the floor in the living room and cried. I cried for the families, for the victims, for myself- because I knew that the world as I had known it would be forever changed, war would be inevitable.

By the end of the day, two more planes had crashed. One into the Pentagon, the other in a field in Pennsylvania. The brave passengers, knowing their fate, decided that they would not go quietly and attempted to overtake the hijackers. They unknowingly saved hundreds, possibly thousands, of lives. Heroes.

When I think of that day, I still find it hard to believe that it happened. It feels like a dream- I wish it was. Thousands of people died, families forever changed because of the hatred of an organization that desired to see the demise of the United States and all her people.

Soon, the media pulled the footage of the plane crashes off of the television. Our soldiers went to war to defend our honor and initially received the support of all Americans. Soon, people forgot and our soldiers, still fighting for us, were drawn into the middle of a political game and have since received the brunt of Americans anger toward the situation.

America lost some of her innocence that day. It is something that we can never get back, but it is our duty to remember those that were killed in that violent terror attacks on American soil and those that have died protecting our freedoms since then. Never forget. Never forget. Never forget. God Bless America.