Remembering 9/11

It was exactly 10 years ago today that my life, my family’s life and all American lives changed forever.

I still vividly remember where I was when I first found out. I was fairly young, sitting at my desk in history class. My history teacher was reviewing the facts of the American Revolution .

“Does anyone here know how the American Revolution began,” asked my teacher.

A young student in the back row squeaked out a reply, “Because Americans wanted to make it clear that no one can take away our rights and privileges.”

Little did I realize then, as quickly as my teacher wrote that answer in hard to read cursive on the chalk board, the story of America’s history would gain a new chapter, one that would permanently alter the course of this great country forever.

As the young student thoughtfully answered the proposed question on the American Revolution, a loud knocking sound overtook our classroom door.

My teacher stepped out into the hall. I remember hearing loud, nervous chatter coming from the hallway. As I leaned my head across a classmate’s desk, I noticed my teacher was speaking to our school principal. 

I knew right then, something was wrong.

My teacher stepped back into our classroom. Her red cheeks, flushed with excitement over our classroom subject manner, faded to white.  She first stumbled over her words. I realize now, that she was not only thinking about her own family, but all Americans. She somehow managed to remain calm.

“There is a National Emergency going on, and all students will be dismissed early,” my teacher anxiously said.

I don’t quite think at the moment and with all her years experience in teaching, that she could come up with the right words to say to a classroom full of innocence, for she herself was lost.

I remember leaving my classroom for the bus. On what seemed like a forever walk to the front of the school, I recall noticing a huddle of teachers and students upset and crying. In 2001, Facebook did not exist, Twitter was a theory and instant communication was a dream being built in a college dorm room. At that moment, I did not realize the real magnitude of what was going on outside of my school walls. 

It wasn’t until I arrived home and saw both of my parents, visibly upset watching the TV, that it dawned on me that my life was forever changed. As I entered the living room, my parents both greeted me with a huge hug. My heart began to race.

“What is really going on,” I asked myself.

Then I saw it. The images on TV did not seem real and hit me like a ton of bricks.

10 years later, those same images still don’t appear real. What happened on 9/11 was hard to comprehend. When I was younger, I was sad. As I grew older, I felt angry. Today, 10 years later, I feel connected to my country. I feel proud when I think about the unselfish bravery of the first responders and citizens who risked their lives to help others.

All Americans experienced such great tragedy that day, that it somehow brought us even closer together.

Two days after 9/11, my family went outside the front door of our home and lit a candle. What I saw when I reached the outside of my home is something I will never forget. Every family from our neighborhood was outside their homes with a candle. During that time, it did not matter what your social status, race or political affiliation was - we were all Americans, grieving and trying to find the strength to heal.

Today we will all pause for a moment to remember the lives of lost loved ones, the bravery of the first responders and citizens and to pay tribute to our military men and women.