everyone says they'll never forget that day. you remember where you were, who you were with, even what you ate that somber morning. the little details mean so much more in retrospect. the way your stomach swooped when you heard the news; the horror on your mother's face as she told you something was wrong. the thought of what other americans were going through at that moment in time. the tears i saw my dad shed, one of very few times i've seen him cry. the way you felt uncomfortable and afraid for the future.
i was only 12 this morning. i remember it seemed especially cold; too cold for september. on the way to school the lady i carpooled with was cranking the AM radio. "this is a big deal," she kept saying. "this is something you'll never forget." i had no idea what she was talking about and all i remember was feeling afraid.
i got to my first period junior high class with a whirl of questions. i wasn't the only one either. everyone was shooting their hands up into the air, with various degrees of panic. "what happened?" "what's going on?" "something is very wrong, isn't it?" i sat numbly waiting for answers. my seventh grade math teacher, bless his soul, turned on the television as the second plane hit the tower.
when the principal came on over the intercom and demanded teachers turn off their TV's, mr. leo was furious. "i know you are afraid," i remember him saying. "this is something you'll remember for the rest of your life. i want you to see this." we sat in horror and watched the towers collapse.
it was the next class period that i first heard the word "terrorism". my other teachers refused to talk to the students about what was happening, which made us more afraid. "terrorism," i remember thinking. "whatever it is, that's an accurate word to describe it. i am terrified."
by the time lunch rolled around i was so scared, but didn't want to tell anyone. my cousin gardner, who i ate lunch with every day, and i decided we wanted to know more. our friend lived near the school and offered his house to go to, even though it was a closed campus.
we walked across the soccer field and into niall's house, where we found his older brother camped out in front of the TV.
his brother proceeded to explain to us everything that was going on. we sat in awe and reverence and listened to things that were so over our heads; and yet we knew they were things we would always remember.
"you guys are young, but i want you to embed this into your brains," he said. "you're going to want to tell your children. we are the generation that will never forget."
ten years later, i understand more. i feel more. i know more. the wars are still being fought; americans are still dying for the fight against terrorism. no matter what political party, religion, age or ethnicity, it's something that has scarred every single one of us.
let us remember those who were lost; those who fought; those who lost someone they loved.
i always hear people say, "let us never forget." as if that is easy to do...these images, feelings and thoughts are things i will never be able to erase from my memory.
i was only 12 this morning. i remember it seemed especially cold; too cold for september. on the way to school the lady i carpooled with was cranking the AM radio. "this is a big deal," she kept saying. "this is something you'll never forget." i had no idea what she was talking about and all i remember was feeling afraid.
i got to my first period junior high class with a whirl of questions. i wasn't the only one either. everyone was shooting their hands up into the air, with various degrees of panic. "what happened?" "what's going on?" "something is very wrong, isn't it?" i sat numbly waiting for answers. my seventh grade math teacher, bless his soul, turned on the television as the second plane hit the tower.
when the principal came on over the intercom and demanded teachers turn off their TV's, mr. leo was furious. "i know you are afraid," i remember him saying. "this is something you'll remember for the rest of your life. i want you to see this." we sat in horror and watched the towers collapse.
it was the next class period that i first heard the word "terrorism". my other teachers refused to talk to the students about what was happening, which made us more afraid. "terrorism," i remember thinking. "whatever it is, that's an accurate word to describe it. i am terrified."
by the time lunch rolled around i was so scared, but didn't want to tell anyone. my cousin gardner, who i ate lunch with every day, and i decided we wanted to know more. our friend lived near the school and offered his house to go to, even though it was a closed campus.
we walked across the soccer field and into niall's house, where we found his older brother camped out in front of the TV.
his brother proceeded to explain to us everything that was going on. we sat in awe and reverence and listened to things that were so over our heads; and yet we knew they were things we would always remember.
"you guys are young, but i want you to embed this into your brains," he said. "you're going to want to tell your children. we are the generation that will never forget."
ten years later, i understand more. i feel more. i know more. the wars are still being fought; americans are still dying for the fight against terrorism. no matter what political party, religion, age or ethnicity, it's something that has scarred every single one of us.
let us remember those who were lost; those who fought; those who lost someone they loved.
i always hear people say, "let us never forget." as if that is easy to do...these images, feelings and thoughts are things i will never be able to erase from my memory.
