September 11

It’s hard to believe it’s been 15 years. I still remember where I was. I was 13. Turning 14 in a week. I was woken up that morning to the startling news. Something had happened to one of the WTC towers in New York City. An explosion maybe? A bomb? A terrorist attack? No one knew. We sat in front of the tv and watched, desperate for news. Desperate for anything to clarify what was happening. I remember watching as a second plane came flying seemingly out of nowhere and collide explosively with the second tower. I remember the news anchor’s shock as they tried to maintain their composure on national television. 

I remember sitting in confused silence in our living room. I remember everyone trying to make sense of what was happening, trying to explain it or find a answer. 

I remember watching as you could see the people inside the tower, leaning out of windows. I remember the horror I felt as all of the sudden we realized that people were jumping. 

I remember the understanding that hit me when another explosion was reported at the Pentagon. I remember understanding that something evil was happening. 15 years later I’m still not confident we know all the answers. And I won’t waste time on speculation.

I remember being glued to the tv. Just wanting any news on what was happening. I remembered thinking about all the first responders that were rushing to the scene. Firemen, paramedics, police, random bystanders who knew something needed to be done. I remember swallowing my fear as I thought about what they were running into. 

I remember watching in shock as the first tower collapsed. All I could think about was the people. How many people were in the building? How many people couldn't get out? What would happen to the people in the streets? Would they be able to get away? Would other buildings fall as a result? I remember being mad that so many people couldn’t get out. I don’t know why I was mad, but it made me angry. 

I remember I couldn't think, as I watched that tower collapse. I couldn't get a hold on what was happening. I wanted to understand, to make it make sense, but it was all happening too fast. Everything seemed out of reach. There was no rational thought to be grasped. 

I remember desperately hoping that more people could get out of the other tower. I remember silently pleading that for some unknowable reason, the second tower wouldn’t collapse. I remember the shock when it did. 

Forgive me for being so morbid, but I remember thinking about the carnage. You see, I'd read the story of the Oklahoma City bombing. I was only 8 when it happened and didn't know much about it at the time. But I read the story when I was older because I wanted to know. I remember the accounts of the paramedics finding the fingers of toddlers in the rubble. It made me sick. Who could do that to children? But I couldn't imagine the carnage the first responders would find this time. I remember how sad it made me. How could they ever recover from what they would see that day?

I remember hearing the stories of the people on the planes. Calling loved ones, understanding their fate. I remember hearing the story of the heroes that didn’t allow the final plane to get to it’s destination. 

I remember sitting and listening to our president address the nation that night. I remember the sorrow on his face. I remember how many people hated him, but no one cared that day. I remember the words of courage he spoke to us. I remember that I was proud of him, because I couldn’t imagine having to lead our country that day. I remember that my heart was proud to be an American. 

I remember being angry that my country, in which I had always felt safe, was compromised. I remember laying in bed at night for months after and being afraid every time I heard a jet overhead. A childish fear, to be sure, but real nonetheless. I remember being afraid that every day I would wake up and hear about another attack. I remember watching every jet I saw just to make sure it was going where it was supposed to. As if me watching it somehow would make it so. I remember calculating what important landmarks and government facilities were nearby, just in case. 

I remember how people looked at each other differently. I remember how there was an unspoken brotherhood, a camaraderie; we were all in this together. Strangers, and yet, familiar at the same time. People just wanted to be kind to one another. I remember how first responders were national heroes. My, how times have changed. 

15 years later I still feel the sorrow at the horrendous loss of life. I can’t look back at the videos of that day. I can’t watch the horror of it all over again. 

15 years later. Fifteen years. 

I remember. I just remember. 

And I’ll never forget.