Ten Years Later...It's Time to Reflect...

A lot can happen in ten years, and as many of you know it has for me recently. But that's not the point for this entry (if you want to know more, just ask me about that separately). But rather the purpose of this entry is to reflect back on what happened ten years ago, September 11th, and how it has impacted and affected me.

As I listened to the wonderfully written memorial, "Where were you when the world stopped turning?" by Alan Jackson, it made me ponder that very same question. I remember very vividly that fateful Tuesday, September 11th, 2001. I had just started my freshman year of college mere weeks before. That morning I had gotten up and was sitting on the couch in the den talking to my Mom about my class schedule for that day (I had all afternoon classes). My Dad comes rushing in the door exclaiming that he could not believe we didn't have the TV turned on. Mom & I kind of looked at each other like "why would we have the TV turned on?" He procees to grab the remote and turn on the TV amidst telling us that the World Trade Center had been hit by airplanes, they thought something had happened in DC and the nation was in chaos.

I was utterly confused and dazed. As the picture on the screen came in to focus, there was a split screen -- on the right, smoke billowed from some, at that time, unknown building in Washington, D.C., and there on the left stood the World Trade Centers both with gaping holes and smoke pouring from them. My heart momentarily stopped beating & shock set it. Initially, I thought that this just HAD to be a trailer from an upcoming movie. I thought "this couldn't be happening to America, could it?"

The news was in an uproar. Planes were being grounded. Planes were missing. Planes were NOT responding to tower communications. There was something heading toward the US Capitol. Fighter jets were being scrambled. Everything was going on lockdown. I sat there motionless thinking this just has to be a dream.

Mere moments later as I'm watching the split screen on the TV and wondering just how many people were in those buildings, were any alive, were they getting out ... so many questions were cycling thru my head and as I tried to process it all, the world stopped ... the South Tower of the World Trade Center began to buckle & collapse.

Silence .....................

I didn't know what to do. I couldn't cry. I couldn't speak. I couldn't breathe. Those poor people. Who in the world did this? Who would want to harm America? What had we done to cause someone to hate us like this? More questions poured into my head. The world stopped moving ... I sat in stunned silence. I could not fathom that such a tall giant of a structure was now gone. I remember sitting there looking at the North Tower all by itself; it's twin tower now gone and all those within it. I remember analyzing the hole in the North Tower and remember saying "the North Tower isn't going to fall...it just can't fall, it was hit too high up...please, don't fall". In some ways, you felt sorry for the building standing by itself. By that time, I knew that building had been hit first, so I prayed that most everyone had been able to escape. I just stood firm that the North Tower would stand strong. And then, the world stopped again ....

Silence ....................

I still couldn't cry; still couldn't breathe; still couldn't think clearly. What had just happened? Was this some horrible nightmare? Did I miss the fact that maybe we had a demolition crew who was blowing these buildings down on purpose? No, that couldn't be true ....

I finally forced myself into reality and realized that I had to get dressed and go to class. I didn't want to go to class. I wanted to stay and watch TV. I wanted to know what was still on the loose out there. Driving to campus, I turned off the music, that I am so typically known for playing, but rather searched to find the news being simulcasted over the radio. I remember driving in FEAR to class. I remember looking thru my glass roof in my Firebird looking for planes; I remember passing airports now grounded. But what I remember most was parking my car on a college campus and when exiting the car, it was an eerie silence. There was no laughter, no cutting up, no silly college kids doing goofy stuff. Everyone was gathered near a TV set or anything they could find. No one was smiling. It was the eeriest feeling I had ever felt. There was no point for class that day. You couldn't concentrate. Our nation, AMERICA, was under attack and for what purpose?

In the weeks that past, life on campus changed in many ways ... the laughter & goofiness eventually returned. But there was another presence, a disapperance. Many kids disappeared from class. Most were called back into the military, including one of my professors; some voluntarily enlisted. Others left school because they had lost loved ones. You became more aware of your surroundings. I was more aware of who sat beside me in class. I watched EVERYTHING and EVERYONE. You had this innate sense of a "hightened threat level" not just for America, but for your own personal well-being. Would life EVER return to normal?

As the weeks progressed, I was still having trouble sleeping. I kept picturing the images on TV of the planes hitting the towers, people jumping from windows, just the sheer horror of the entire sequence of events. It scarred each of us in different ways.

So, some of you are thinking, well okay, that's your account on 9/11/01, big deal it's the same as mine or similar as my neighbors. How did it really affect you? Did you lose someone you knew, etc.? Well to answer that, no, although we were scared my uncle had been on one of the planes (thankfully he was not!)

But here's how it has haunted me ....

I had stood at the base of those towers and craned my neck to look toward the heavens to find where they stopped. I had been on the 110th floor of the South Tower. No, it wasn't years prior that I had done this. I was on the 110th floor of the South Tower mere months before September 11th.

March of 2001, our high school senior class took the yearly trip to New York City. The first few days of the trip were dreary, cold and snowy. I was already sick with bronchitis and just didn't feel up to par. We ventured over to the Statue of Liberty and I remember gazing at those two large buildings that made up the skyline of lower Manhattan. The day came where we were going to tour those buildings. What's ironic ... the day we went to the World Trade Center was the FIRST day that the sun actually came out and shone all day. I remember waiting in the large lobby in lines, as if waiting for a ride at Disneyworld, to board the express elevators that travel at 55mph to take you to the Top of the World.

What an amazing view ... you could see New Jersey to the south & west; all of New York City & the Empire State Building to the north; the rest of the burroughs of Manhattan and Long Island to the east. The Statue of Liberty looked like a tiny little figure. The buildings, buses and cars looked like a miniature lego village. Many people, who've seen my pictures, asked if I took a helicopter tour of the city. Nope, that's the view from the Top of the World in the South Tower. I remember pressing my nose up to the glass and peering down some 110 floors to the ground. I pressed a penny in a penny press machine (I still have that today). I remember visiting the gift shop and other little shops up there.

So my horror on 9/11 was when I turned on the TV and sat there watching it all unfold. I recalled that mere months ago I stood on the top floor of those buildings. The first tower that fell was the one that I had been in. What would I have done had I been up on the 110th floor? Could I have gotten out? Would I have run down the stairs? Would I have gone to the roof? Would I have grabbed an umbrella and tried to be like Mary Poppins and jump? Would I have lived or died?

Why didn't the terrorists attack in March of 2001?

Very morbid questions, yes, I know. But those are the questions that have gone thru my head for the last ten years. Am I grateful that I am alive and the terrorists didn't attack when I was there? You bet.

I'm grateful every day to be alive. Throughout the past ten years, I've lived in fear. I've never really mourned or cried over 9/11. I've got my guard up and am ready to protect myself and those that I love from crazed people who hate Americans. This year, I told myself I was going to avoid TV. I didn't want to see those images again. I didn't want to have the nightmares and be haunted. But I couldn't turn away. I had to watch. I had to mourn. And I did ... I didn't watch much, but when the Brooklyn Children's Choir sang the National Anthem while the United States flag that was torn and tattered was unfurled, I cried. I cried for those that died -- those civilians that didn't know what hit them, those civilians that couldn't escape the horror; I cried for those brave HEROES -- our police, rescue & fireman who risked their lives to save others. Those are our true heroes for 9/11. I cried thankfully to God that I was safe and so was my family.

September 11th is a day that none of us will soon forget. It will live on forever in our lives. May we not soon forget what happened to our country that day & those that died saving our lives. But to some extent, we must move on. We must not be haunted by those images. We must stand firm as one country united and press forward to respect those that are gone.