Monday, September 10, 2012

9-11: May We Always Remember

I want to remember people jumping. Debris falling. Buildings collapsing. I want to remember people running. Endless crying. I want to remember terrorists’ faces. Blood splattered. I want to remember that day as vividly as the very first September 11th.

Eleven years ago, my co-worker came to my cubicle and told me the World Trade Center had just been hit and I dismissed it, told her it was a mistake…some pilot who went off course. I went on with my work like she hadn’t said anything at all (well, playing on the computer and pretending to work is more like it).

Minutes later, the second tower was hit. Murmurs went around the office and we began to realize it wasn’t an accident. We went to the multipurpose room and gathered around the television set to find out what was going on. Many people didn’t move as they took in the news. I was in shock, wondering about a friend who lived in the center of it all. I remember trying to call her and not being able to get through. It wasn’t until days later that I found out she was okay, but that was little consolation after I heard the numbers of all the souls who perished that day.

In the weeks and months after the tragedy, I remember crying non-stop. One minute I would be okay and the next I would bust out in tears. I took the terrorist attacks hard and felt guilty for not taking it seriously when my co-worker came to my cubicle. Now, I try to tell myself that there was no way I could have imagined the magnitude of what was really going on. I mean, it isn’t everyday that planes fly into buildings. But one major lesson I learned from that day is to ALWAYS PAY ATTENTION because you never know when something will be much bigger than you think.

For months after September 11th, I remember being afraid that a plane would come out of nowhere and hit my office building. To this day, whenever I hear a plane getting too close for comfort I get scared and my heart sinks wondering if it’s a terrorist attack and the plane is going to crash.

This past summer, I kept hearing plane engines over my apartment and started to freak out. I was about to pick my daughter up and duck for cover. Instead, I mustered enough courage to go outside and see what was going on. Turns out there was a jet show happening and I was relieved. Needless to say, September 11th has changed the way I see planes forever (not to mention how I feel when I see a clear day that looks “September 11th blue”).

During this time every year, I make sure I catch any documentaries that air to commemorate that horrible day (now that I’m blessed to have cable again, I was able to watch a couple of documentaries this past weekend). It’s my way of remembering…to never forget the horror that those who lost their lives went through…the thousands of stairs they had to walk down…the way people helped one another in the midst of complete and utter chaos. That’s the least I can do to honor those who died.

I will never forget what happened on September 11, 2001, and I plan on telling my daughter so she won’t either. May the souls that were lost rest in peace.

1 comment:

  1. The events is something that I will never forget. I can still remember the smoke, the smell, and the sights. Last year was the year that I could not watch anymore. I didn't need a TV to relive those moments, they are forever branded in my mind. The stories of my family who was there and seeking shelter are forever branded. I stopped watching the shows about it, because just the sound of a fire truck brings tears to my eyes.

    I agree that we should honor those that died, and mourn the loss of life, but I also think we should celebrate the lives that was saved, and never take a day for granted.

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