Where were you?
It’s hard not to get caught up in the emotion of a memory. Especially when you share that same moment with millions of people. As adults or even older teens, we can remember that day 11 years ago, without opening up a youtube window. We can say, “I was at so and so’s” or “I remember I was at work” and inevitably we all spent the next day or even more glued to our televisions as hour after hour new scenes filled our brains with terror, sadness and such a confusion that left us in a state of shock.
We watched as the towers collapsed, we heard the voice of a man on a plane yell “Let’s Roll” as the passengers took back the plane and faced their own mortality. Our hearts were filled as Hero’s were made, history was created and children cried for their parents who would never come home.
Here is a blog I wrote in 2008 (4 years ago) remembering the moment, as my memory of that day has not changed.
“It was dark in my room as I laid there and considered rolling out of bed and taking a shower. The basement bedroom kept me in sort of a perpetual sleep until I was motivated enough to go upstairs..This was not a motivated moment.
I heard Rod make his way down the stairs, I closed my eyes and rolled over, pulling the blankets up to my chin. Rod sat on the bed. “Honey, you have to get up. They just flew a plane into the pentagon.” I sat up straight and looked at him. “No Way!” he nodded and a look of panic crossed his face. It hadn’t sunk in yet to the fullest and he headed out to work as I sat down on the sofa and watched the smoke pour from the pentagon building via ABC. It was then that they switched back to New York and then the plane cruising right through one of the towers.
The images, were not yet real, how could something so terrible ever be real? I could not wrap my brain around, how such monstrosities could be played outside of a movie.
My heart sunk, and the pit of my stomach lifted. Images pulled from some sort of hell, rolled before my eyes. My spine rigid and pin pricks upon my arms, I began to cry. What other emotion is appropriate?
I couldn’t stand to sit alone in my house any longer, so I wandered over to my Best friend who lived next door. Her husband sat watching a fishing show on cable TV. “did you hear about the twin towers?” Yeah, he said, but I think it was the pentagon” ” Yeah, that was hit too, Both towers, the pentagon and a plane somewhere else.” I said, he turned the Tv to the local station and we all watched as “the world” came crashing down.
Later, when the monotony of the images played in our minds, I went outside to smoke a cigarette. The air seemed thick, like everyone was breathing a little bit harder and worry clung to it, pulling all the sounds closer to the ground. What sounds that there were , which was not many. A silence had crept beneath the thick air. Shock has an awful way of traveling to the smallest cracks in the tiniest places and that is what this was, pure shock. I saw the people, they came forth from their homes looking to the sky, maybe for an answer, maybe for hope, whatever reason was answered by 2 jets speeding across the sky. Back and forth they went and the people watched like their steel bodies were the hands of god, protecting them in their hour of need, truly they were.
And yet, though “the gods” graced our skies the silence still held even on to the blare of the jets always, under everything, was the silence. So we returned to our television sets, watching the images, craving more so that we might know more, we might know that our loved ones were ok, that our friends made it out and that a complete stranger was rescued. But we were met only by death and sorrow. Still we watched, television with out happy commercials, people speaking to each other only to break up the silence.
But then little by little, hope emerged, slowly at first, they appeared as earthly angels, some in rags, some in suits, uniforms and laymen’s clothing and then hope became prevalent, they emerged from nowhere, carrying with them on their shoulders, hope, love, pride and determination. It would be these men and women who would bring us from the silence, who would again teach us to speak from their sorrows, and would teach us to sing from the tragedies.
September 11th 2008 dawned much like September 11th 2001. The sky was a blue that would rival that of only the oceans, the people hurried about their days. But still the silence could be felt under the normal hustle bustle. Here and there, you could find reminders that we still live that day. Flags Half Mast and today 600 motorcyclists drove down the main thoroughfare to honor the memories of those who were lost.
We were wounded that day, but like any scar that is ours to bare, we wear it with pride and with a somber bravery, that IF there is ever a next time it will be so much different.
I hope that everyone took a moment to remember today. Much love to you my friends. “