Today marks the 10th anniversary of 9/11. I've been thinking about it a lot today, and I'm sure all the coverage by the mass media is a part of it. As the kids grow up, I think about it a little more every year. Neither one has spoken of the day, and I'm not quite sure how much they know about it. I've been trying not to watch too much about it on TV, for fear that they might see something that would make them uncomfortable. And, quite frankly, I don't think I'm ready to deal with answering questions about that fateful day.
But as I sit, watching the news this evening, I'm at a loss. To hear a little boy speak of the father he never met, but is eternally grateful for giving him life. For those spouses who lost their loved ones simply just because they went to work that day. The firefighters who sacrificed their lives to help others, and hearing of their colleagues who live with survivors' guilt.
And like most people who were adults just 10 years ago, I know exactly where I was. I was at work, and, like every morning, I had my radio on. Most people were starting work that day--I started at 7:30--and I remember hearing the DJs talking about a plane hitting a building in New York. They were saying how scary that was, and then the newscaster came on to say another building has been hit and that it was no accident. By then, the DJs sounded panicked, and I immediately went around to find other cooworkers to talk about it.
I doubt any work was completed that day. About 30 of us found a TV in the executive area, and we sat and watched the coverage. A collective gasp came over when the first tower collapsed, and then when the other went down just a few minutes later. What on earth was happening? It seemed more like a movie scene than real life. Many people were crying. Others were concerned about friends/family in the New York area. This was before cell phones were really prevalent, and it was hard to get a hold of people.
We heard that many of the office buildings downtown were being evacuated. My company was on the outskirts of the city, but we were told to stay put. I don't even think I called Phil, which is surprising because on 9/11, that marked our one-month anniversary of being married. He was actually home that day, as he was to have worked the evening shift at work. Needless to say, he was a tad worried when he left me 4-5 voice mails at work and I hadn't returned his call.
The next week was eerie. I used to drive over the Edens, and I remember someone placed an American flag on the fence, and it remained for several weeks. The skies were so quiet, which, if you live anywhere near an airport is shocking enough. I do remember sometime later that week that there were fighter jets that flew overhead, and I think my heart skipped a beat.
Slowly life resumed. It never got back to normal, and my kids will never know what normal once was. They'll never be able to greet their loved ones at the gate at the airport. That sounds minute, but they'll never get to experience it. 9/11 will remain a part of our lives, and as we've heard, we will never forget. God bless all those who lost loved ones. God bless all those who sacrificed their lives to save others. And God bless those who keep us safe every day. On behalf of my family, we cannot thank them enough.
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