Faded but never forgotten

As the tenth anniversary of September 11th approached this year I had a roller coaster of emotions unlike I have in the past. I felt disbelief that a decade had passed when the memories seem so fresh and the wounds for many have not healed. In previous years I always thought that my experience wasn't important because it paled in comparison to the suffering that so many others endured. Chris and I have been watching A LOT of documentaries and interviews and so many of my own feelings have resurfaced and I thought that for the sake of remembering I would document them. It is crazy for me to think that our daughter will only hear the stories and she will not understand why that day was so life-changing for her "aged" parents.

So it began, like any other morning, I got up before the sun and headed to seminary. After that I drove directly to school and headed to class. The day seemed very normal, but there was a lot of bustle in the hallways. By my second class, we could kinda feel that something was up. At this point there were rumors and false reports that a crop duster had mistakenly hit the Trade Center. We were confused and pitied the poor idiot pilot who made such a dumb mistake. As the class went on, the hallways seemed to become more congested and commotions were hears through classroom doors. Teachers were being pulled into hallways and kids could be heard crying. The principal came on the loudspeaker and asked everyone to please stay off our phones because we were facing cellular gridlock and we needed to keep them clear for those trying to reach loved ones in New York. New York?! I was so confused. Why would the entire world be calling New York because of one idiot and his little bi-plane? Then my teacher rushed back into our room and her face was just the look of sheer panic. She said, "The Pentagon's been hit!" We all fell silent. She then told us she was going to check on another teacher who's husband worked in the pentagon and she ran out of the room.
Even as the news was piling in and the images flashed on the screen, the only thing I felt was pure confusion. The idea of "terror" was so foreign that I think my mind didn't even contemplate that as a threat. I was living in the United States, the leader of the free world. Terrorism was not anything I had been prepared for, or concerned with. Slowly as I watched and rewatched images of the second plane hitting the tower and people jumping out of the windows of the 98th floor, it all started to sink in. I felt so violated. My entire world has been rocked in a moment. There were no agendas for the rest of the day, no lesson plans. Each class consisted of watching the news and helping those around us deal with personal needs. I felt fear, as my dad traveled often, and while I felt he was ok, I had no idea where he was. Just when we thought we were through the worst of things, the towers collapsed. I will never forget the faces caught on camera running for their lives and looking back at this cloud of ash that was threatening to engulf them.
Being just 40 minutes from DC and 10 from Dulles Airport, our school was placed on lock down. Students were not aloud to leave unless a parent came and checked you out. There was great concern over further attacks. The schools prepped to act as a treatment facility should any of the attacks contain nerve gas or other toxic agents. We continued to hear rumors about more hijacked planes that were circling around Dulles Airport and potential targets that were in danger. We all walked around in a hallway full of people, but just feeling so alone. You could see shock, fear and disbelief on everyone's faces.
As school got out, I made my way home (which at the time was a hotel because we had just moved back to Virginia). We all sat crammed in our suite, not talking, just hearing story after story on the news of lives that were forever changed. Some stories were miraculous. I will never forget the 16 total survivors who managed to live through the collapse of the North Tower by riding the building down. I will never forget the mom who was late for work because she had to drop off her son at kindergarten and therefore didn't make it to work on time. Other stories didn't end as well. I will never forget the conversations relayed by Lisa Jackson recounting the heroism of those people on Flight 93. I will never forget the brave firefighters who marched in, carrying hundred pound loads when everyone else was rushing out. I will never forget the silence in the skies around Dulles and how scary it was to see the first plane back in the sky. It jolted me and I couldn't help but wonder if that plane was where it was supposed to be or if we were about to relive the terror.
That year for Spring Break, I went to New York with a friend and we felt that we should take some time to go see Ground Zero. We felt that enough time had passed (6 months) that it would purely be interesting. But as we walked down the streets in the financial district, an eerily familiar feel fell upon us. We had seen these streets just months ago, filled with people running for their lives. They were ghost towns covered in smoke and ash. We quickly realized that the feelings were not passed. I remember looking at this massive remaining pile of rubble and just thinking about how much had been removed and thinking about how much was lost in that pile. There were still memorials scattered along the fence. Picture of those lost tucked between the chain links and missing pictures still hanging because loved ones couldn't resign to the fact that those people were gone. Messages were still written in the dist and dirt. Windows in bordering buildings were broken and some were boarded. There were American flags hanging in some of the gaping holes.
So we are, a decade older, and while the feelings may fade some days and we may be able to look at it as a part of our history, it is still very real. I still feel so very proud to share a country with those rescuers who drove in form all over to help out, the volunteers who stayed for weeks and months to help wherever they were needed, and the military servicemen and women who fight to protect us secure our liberties. Thanks you! We will NEVER forget!