As the 10th anniversary of the September attacks rolls around this weekend, I am at a loss for words. I teach a class of 11 and 12 year old students who only know what they have been taught about it. They have no memory of that event, and yet to me it is still a very vivid memory. This must be how my parents felt about the JFK shooting, or my grandparents felt about the bombing at Pearl Harbor. They remembered vividly, but to me, these events were just something from my history books.
Until September 11, 2001. Then, I knew how they must have felt to be experiencing a tragedy that affected everyone. A day so horrific that my mere account of it cannot clearly express to my students the reality of that day. They will learn it as a fact in their history book, while I remember the emotion and grief and confusion.
I was a senior in college and running late to my algebra class. I remember running to the dean's office to drop something off, and the dean of men put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Have you heard? An airplane crashed into one of the World Trade towers and a few minutes later another plane crashed into the second." That small insight into the day's events will stay with me forever. I remember heading into class and no one knew yet. I told the girls that I sat with and by the time the class was over, it seemed that everyone on campus knew. We went back to the dorms and looked at video online. Then we headed over for chapel and we watched it on the TVs at the gym.
I still remember the next day, when George Bush addressed the nation, I was at Pizza Hut. Everyone stopped talking and stood up while he spoke. The restaurant was silent as he vowed to seek those who had committed such a horrible act. I can still remember how it felt to look around at all those people and feel a sense of closeness to them, even though we were all strangers. But our shared experience had given us a sense of unity. I remember how touched I was when Congress began to sing "God Bless America".
Looking back, my memory is still so vivid. I can recall the pictures I saw, the articles I read, the stories I was told.
Where were you?
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I was at work. It was a typical day, until my boss came out and said something was happening. One by one all tbs were turned to the news, computers were streaming the airplane hitting over and over again. I remember feeling disconnected, surreal, like "this couldn't be happening, could it?" after work, I didn't even go home, but went straight to the Red Cross and gave blood for the first time of my life. I don't know if I'll ever feel the way I did that day ever again...that mixture of shock and horror at something so historically profound happening.
ReplyDeleteI was at jury duty. They were in the middle of jury selection when the judge told us all that the building was being closed for the day - however no one had told us anythign had happened. Once they told us what had happened, my initial thought was the plane had hit the antennae part of the building - not the building itself. I remember how strange it was to drive home through our normally bustling city and it was like a ghost town. I remember feeling lost and hopeless - and like I needed to be at home - although I had no one and nothing in New York, I still felt like I should be doing something. Strange how tragic events are the only way some people can get back to their faith and closer to people again.
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