Disclaimer:
With all of the letters in all of the words, of every language known and unknown to man, I could never accurately describe the emotions I experienced on and around the events of 9/11/01.
Tuesday, September 11, 2001, is a day that I will never forget, although; at times I would like to.
I was a junior in high school and walking with a friend to our science class, when I saw the first glimpse of footage. She and I were on the dance team together and everyone referred to us as twins. In all reality, we both just had curly hair, green eyes, and spunky personalities in common.
As we rounded the corner of the science wing of our school, I noticed that the class on the corner was watching a film. We passed the next two classes and I could see that they were all watching the same movie. I didn't think much of it, as they were freshmen classes and I knew that I would be studying something different that day in Physics II. We were gabbing and goofing off about the cute guy who had just transferred to our school when we crossed the threshold of Mr. Keuhl's classroom and into complete and utter silence. It's funny how your memory seems to cling to every unimportant detail when you experience something so traumatic.
I could not tear my eyes from the screen of the television once I noticed the news station logo, and the “Live Breaking News” header. There were two, tall, magnificent towers in the middle of the shot, one with smoke coming out where the final floors should have been. No one spoke, and my heart began to race.
What on earth was going on? What was happening to my beautiful country that is safe and perfectly secure? I was shocked into silence, which was a first in my life. Then it came, the second plane hit the tower that had been standing whole, and I crumbled, along with most of my classmates into a pile of tears and confusion. The horror of what was happening before our very eyes is something that I literally cannot put into words. As details of the attack broke, they began to fall into place for me, 'World Trade Center, Terrorists, Pentagon, Pennsylvania, Under Attack, War, New York City”. Our country was under attack. My sister, in the Navy, was the first person on my mind. I didn’t know where she was or if she was safe.
We continued to watch the news in every class. It went from bad to worse, as new details of what had taken place were released. The stories of the first responders, officers, firefighters and civilians running into the buildings to help with rescues. As we watched, in complete shock, the towers continued to burn, and then they began to crumble. We knew the people on the lower floors and those surrounding the towers outside, would be hurt or killed. Then, my insides began to twist and turn inside out as it continued to get worse.
The Jumpers. I will never forget The Jumpers. The hardest part for me was watching them. These were the people who were in the higher levels of both towers, who could feel the crumbling, knowing they were not going to be rescued in time, beginning to jump, they actually leapt, out of windows, on purpose. I honestly cannot begin to fathom their thoughts. Jumping from tens, even hundreds of stories high, they had to have known that they were not going to make it. Maybe they were choosing death on their own terms. I guess we will never know.
In the following days, stories of the Heroes that fateful day had already begun to emerge. There were the brave souls who fought to rescue others. There were the firefighters who put up the flag that were captured in a photo much like the photo that was taken during WWII. And the most heart wrenching story, for me, was the story of a man named Todd. He was on the plane headed toward Washington, D.C. and when he knew something was wrong, he took action. He tried calling his family and was routed to an airphone supervisor with the FBI listening in. He gave her information on the situation taking place on the plane and he asked her to tell his family how much he loved them. We all heard his brave words, “Let's Roll” before attempting to stop the terrorists from completing their 'mission'. That man, and the ones who went with him, are Heroes of all heroes, in my book.
After 9/11, the country stood on dirty, shaking ground. I don't know a single person who wasn't angry and terrified. What did this mean for the USA? For the country that no one should be able to touch? How could they do this to us, who were 'they', and what would our country do to retaliate? Curiosities and rumors of war, what that would mean for our beloved, precious country, began to circulate.
Fourteen months later, I found myself in NYC. I had been nominated and elected to represent my high school to dance with the 'National All Star Dance Team' in the Macy's Day Parade. I had very little downtime while I was there, but Thanksgiving Day, after our performance, the remainder of the day was mine.
As I began to approach the site, my heart began to beat harder and faster. My body responded and I struggled to get there, feeling like it was pushing me as a magnet opposes similar poles. The heartbreak, the grief, and the anger I had managed to bottle since the attack, surfaced. I fell to my knees on the sidewalk and wept. I cried and whispered profanities until I needed to head back. It was the most wonderfully cathartic experience of my entire life, to date.
I have never felt more terrified, or more proud of my country than I did during the events that surrounded 9/11. I am eternally grateful for those who serve our country, for the men and women who bravely choose to put themselves out there for the greater good of the USA. I am proud to call myself an American.
I will never forget.
With all of the letters in all of the words, of every language known and unknown to man, I could never accurately describe the emotions I experienced on and around the events of 9/11/01.
Tuesday, September 11, 2001, is a day that I will never forget, although; at times I would like to.
I was a junior in high school and walking with a friend to our science class, when I saw the first glimpse of footage. She and I were on the dance team together and everyone referred to us as twins. In all reality, we both just had curly hair, green eyes, and spunky personalities in common.
As we rounded the corner of the science wing of our school, I noticed that the class on the corner was watching a film. We passed the next two classes and I could see that they were all watching the same movie. I didn't think much of it, as they were freshmen classes and I knew that I would be studying something different that day in Physics II. We were gabbing and goofing off about the cute guy who had just transferred to our school when we crossed the threshold of Mr. Keuhl's classroom and into complete and utter silence. It's funny how your memory seems to cling to every unimportant detail when you experience something so traumatic.
I could not tear my eyes from the screen of the television once I noticed the news station logo, and the “Live Breaking News” header. There were two, tall, magnificent towers in the middle of the shot, one with smoke coming out where the final floors should have been. No one spoke, and my heart began to race.
What on earth was going on? What was happening to my beautiful country that is safe and perfectly secure? I was shocked into silence, which was a first in my life. Then it came, the second plane hit the tower that had been standing whole, and I crumbled, along with most of my classmates into a pile of tears and confusion. The horror of what was happening before our very eyes is something that I literally cannot put into words. As details of the attack broke, they began to fall into place for me, 'World Trade Center, Terrorists, Pentagon, Pennsylvania, Under Attack, War, New York City”. Our country was under attack. My sister, in the Navy, was the first person on my mind. I didn’t know where she was or if she was safe.
We continued to watch the news in every class. It went from bad to worse, as new details of what had taken place were released. The stories of the first responders, officers, firefighters and civilians running into the buildings to help with rescues. As we watched, in complete shock, the towers continued to burn, and then they began to crumble. We knew the people on the lower floors and those surrounding the towers outside, would be hurt or killed. Then, my insides began to twist and turn inside out as it continued to get worse.
The Jumpers. I will never forget The Jumpers. The hardest part for me was watching them. These were the people who were in the higher levels of both towers, who could feel the crumbling, knowing they were not going to be rescued in time, beginning to jump, they actually leapt, out of windows, on purpose. I honestly cannot begin to fathom their thoughts. Jumping from tens, even hundreds of stories high, they had to have known that they were not going to make it. Maybe they were choosing death on their own terms. I guess we will never know.
In the following days, stories of the Heroes that fateful day had already begun to emerge. There were the brave souls who fought to rescue others. There were the firefighters who put up the flag that were captured in a photo much like the photo that was taken during WWII. And the most heart wrenching story, for me, was the story of a man named Todd. He was on the plane headed toward Washington, D.C. and when he knew something was wrong, he took action. He tried calling his family and was routed to an airphone supervisor with the FBI listening in. He gave her information on the situation taking place on the plane and he asked her to tell his family how much he loved them. We all heard his brave words, “Let's Roll” before attempting to stop the terrorists from completing their 'mission'. That man, and the ones who went with him, are Heroes of all heroes, in my book.
After 9/11, the country stood on dirty, shaking ground. I don't know a single person who wasn't angry and terrified. What did this mean for the USA? For the country that no one should be able to touch? How could they do this to us, who were 'they', and what would our country do to retaliate? Curiosities and rumors of war, what that would mean for our beloved, precious country, began to circulate.
Fourteen months later, I found myself in NYC. I had been nominated and elected to represent my high school to dance with the 'National All Star Dance Team' in the Macy's Day Parade. I had very little downtime while I was there, but Thanksgiving Day, after our performance, the remainder of the day was mine.
As I began to approach the site, my heart began to beat harder and faster. My body responded and I struggled to get there, feeling like it was pushing me as a magnet opposes similar poles. The heartbreak, the grief, and the anger I had managed to bottle since the attack, surfaced. I fell to my knees on the sidewalk and wept. I cried and whispered profanities until I needed to head back. It was the most wonderfully cathartic experience of my entire life, to date.
I have never felt more terrified, or more proud of my country than I did during the events that surrounded 9/11. I am eternally grateful for those who serve our country, for the men and women who bravely choose to put themselves out there for the greater good of the USA. I am proud to call myself an American.
I will never forget.
Comments
Post a Comment