Never Forgotten

Twelve years ago from yesterday, the country awoke questioning whether they really had crawled out of bed that morning or if they were trapped inside a shared nightmare. Breaths were lodged in our throats. A heartbeat frozen in our chest. Hair stood on the back of our necks. And as the second plane flew straight into the tower, debris billowing from the pedestals side, a gut wrenching squeeze expelled our terrified gasps.   

We remember this as 9/11. A day marked in America’s history that our present generations never imagined could take place. We are America. The Free World. The Greatest Nation on Earth. It is inconceivable that this event could have and did happen. But it did.

Everyone remembers where they were that morning. No one can forget. Yesterday, as I logged onto Facebook and the World Wide Web, I was bombarded with statuses and reminders of that awful day. People express their past fears, their sorrow, where they were and detailed thoughts as they watched those Ivory towers crumble. I did not post anything on my status. I saved it all for this post. Because, that day is engrained in my mind very vividly. It marks a day that changed my family’s life forever. I didn’t lose anyone that day or have any strong connections with those that were there. My connection comes some years later.

Silence. In a house with four children – all homeschooled – that is not a sound I wake up to as the morning light streams through my window. It’s eerie. A bold warning to my twelve year old self that something is amiss. I go to the hall. Nothing. The kitchen. Empty. Making my way into my parent’s bedrooms I hear a sound that has me pausing in my steps.  A cry. Not just any cry – my mother’s cry. Then I notice the second sound. Panicked voices. Sirens wailing. The static of the bunny-eared T.V. beckons me to draw near. That’s when I see it. I round the corner just in time to see the second winged bird drive straight into the silver tower. My mind races. Is this a movie? Some crazy joke?

My brother, cradling his broken arm from yesterday’s soccer game, gaped at the screen. His body curled into a tight ball in the recliner, afraid to move. My eyes trailed to the flowing banner of words across the screen. “September 11, 2011. Twin Towers. New York City. Plane Crash.” The words “attack” and “confusion” echo in my head. No one could comprehend what was going on.

Suddenly, I knew. I was witnessing an attack on American soil. One thing I’ll never forget were the bodies leaping from the windows, countless stories high, plummeting to their deaths. I turned to my mother. I didn’t have to ask, she just nodded and said, “Yes, they’re jumping. They’re dead anyway.”

At that moment, I have never felt so scared, burdened, and sorrowful. Pain for the unknown lives that I was connected to by country ached in my heart. I rushed to the phone. Dialed the number. It rang. And rang. And rang. No answer. I ran to the computer. Logged on to AIM and sent the message, “Are you okay? Are you safe?” All I could think about was my freckle faced, red headed friend who had just moved to NJ, only miles away from NY. Finally, after minutes of anticipation, “Ding.” A response.

“Yes. Safe. Been at school. Could see the smoke from outside.”

It’s a day I’ll never forget. But I never realized the impact it would have on my life until my brother, two years younger than I, enlisted in the United States Marine Corps. Doesn’t sound like a big deal…But when I got the phone call, notifying me that he would be deploying to a Middle Eastern country, it became a big deal. Nothing can describe the emotion a family member goes through when they send a loved one off to war. It’s an awful, lingering, panicked, empty, agonizing heartbreak. You’re helpless. I wish that feeling on no one.

My brother was deployed because of 9/11. If it hadn’t been for that day, we probably wouldn’t be at war. If it hadn’t been for that day, my brother, at such a young youthful age, wouldn’t have had to experience and witness the things that he had. I’ve heard some of his stories. And even though he returned safely home, each time I hear them, I feel my heart squeezed and my breath catch in my chest.

9/11 stole so much from so many of us. It impacted everyone as our country was ripped apart in pain and fear. It severed the relationships of families as lives were stolen from them. And it robbed the innocence from those who would go to fight for justice and freedom. 9/11 should never be forgotten. It should never be taken lightly. It will forever be a scar burned into our minds and our hearts until we take our last breaths.

 

What are your memories from that day? How has 9/11 impacted your life? What have you taken away from that event?