Tim had recently moved to Maryland. He was interviewing around the DC area for a job. I had an inkling of the repercussions this attack would have. After I had regained my speech, blinked away the first tears and dropped my hands from my mouth to my lap, I took his hand and told him he was going to take the first job offered him. When I couldn't wrap my mind around the unthinkable, self preservation took over. But not for long. Another plane hits the Pentagon. It was like a bad movie unfolding in real time. The South Tower collapses... the heroic souls aboard flight 93 sacrifice their lives to prevent the possible deaths of hundreds more... the North Tower collapses... In one hour and 37 minutes, our lives are forever changed. All of our lives. Some more than others. But irrevocably changed.
My father's machine shop was located off Route 4 in New Jersey, 20 minutes outside of NYC. They could see the smoke from the parking lot. Route 4 turned into a parking lot. Emergency vehicles raced into the city, waiting for... nothing. No one above the impact of the planes survived. When I asked my brother, later, what the city looked like, he said, "It looks like NYC got her two front teeth knocked out."
I have a student that was compelled to travel to NYC that morning to help in any way he could. He made it pretty far up the NJ Turnpike before he had to park his car and walk. Over 30 miles, as I recall. He worked for days in the city, looking. For anyone. He said he is forever changed - altered - by what he saw there. I will spare you the details. Part of me wishes I could forget them, myself.
Why am I going through the details of that day? Why do I feel it necessary to remember, as vividly as I can, every year? Because our memories are short. Time moves on - I've gotten married and had two wonderful children in the past ten years - and the normality of our lives reasserts itself. We try to push horrific memories to the back of our minds. It is our nature as human beings to try to forget. But this event... we cannot.
My heart breaks for the 2,998 people that were killed that day. For the families that lost integral parts that day. Mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, husbands, wives, sisters and brothers... Gone. We must never forget them.
There are crazy people in this world. People who are jealous of the freedom we, as Americans, enjoy. Revel in. And take for granted. People who think we are arrogant. Too full of pride. And they want to take it away from us. They failed. If we remember... they will never succeed.
As I sit here looking at the beautiful and precious life that is my 8 month old daughter, and listen to my 7 year old son playing cheerfully outside, I send a prayer to all the families effected by 9/11. I pray for the ones that are safe in God's hands, and for the ones that were left behind. I pray for and thank God every day for the men and women who put themselves in harms way for me and mine, so that I can continue to revel in the privilege and honor of being American. Fire fighters, police officers, paramedics, soldiers... you all have my eternal gratitude. THANK YOU for keeping my babies safe. I will always remember...
"A great people has been moved to defend a great nation. Terrorist attacks can shake the foundations of our biggest buildings, but they cannot touch the foundation of America. These acts shattered steel, but they cannot dent the steel of American resolve. America was targeted for attack because we're the brightest beacon for freedom and opportunity in the world. And no one will keep that light from shining. Today, our nation saw evil, the very worst of human nature. And we responded with the best of America — with the daring of our rescue workers, with the caring for strangers and neighbors who came to give blood and help in any way they could." ~President George W. Bush, September 11, 2001
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