Monday, September 12, 2011

Remembering that day

Tuesday, September 11. This is a day that I will never forget. I've been watching 9/11 remembrance shows this evening, and it's made me do exactly what I don't want to - remember that day.

An event happens once in a generation that people will always remember. For my parents, it was JFK. I visited the Sixth Floor Museum in Dallas once, and I was struck by the magnitude of that event. It was emotional and difficult to make it through. For my grandparents, it was Pearl Harbor. Frank's grandmother lived in Hawaii when it happened and actually saw the Japanese bombers flying over. But neither of these things are to me what September 11th is.

In May of 2001, I went to New York City with my high school choir. I remember taking a night time cruise around the harbor and seeing the twin towers lit up, the Statue of Liberty, and the New York skyline.

I remember that day, and I know where I was when I heard.

It was a beautiful day. Everyone was excited - President Bush was in Florida, about 45 minutes from where I lived. He was slated to be in Tampa later on, and everyone was kind of hoping to catch a glimpse of his motorcade.

I was sitting in Mrs. Rowe's English class and everyone was whispering that something had happened in New York. Meaning well, my teacher told us that it was no big deal and that she wasn't going to turn the television on because it was an accident. We settled down, trying not to think about it. I went to lunch, and headed to the choir room where I normally ate. And that's when I found out. America had been attacked. My life changed forever.

I know I wasn't there in New York when it happened, but it was no less real to me. I think everyone in my generation lost something that day. I can't tell you what it is that we lost, but there was some sense of security lost forever.

We all know where we were, and we know who we were watching the coverage with. We remember seeing people jumping from the buildings, watching the footage of the second plane crashing in, and staring in horror as the towers fell.

I remember September 11, but I cannot dwell on it. Why? Because it was the day that I realized I didn't live in a safe haven, it was a day that made me realize bad things could happen here. Now that I have a daughter, I pray that she never has to live through an event like that. I hope she never has to sit transfixed in front of the television watching as an unimaginable horror unfolds in front of her.

Maybe I didn't lose someone in the attacks, but the collective American psyche did. So here's to remembering, but here's also to living and trying to move on.

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