Ten Years

10 years does not seem too far out of reach. When there is an event that happens in your life, it leaves an opportunity for a perspective. 10 years ago today, I was 16 years old. The feeling of a brand-new school year was just starting to wear off as our new schedule became routine. I just got my drivers license and started driving myself to school in the old 1996 Dodge Stratus.

This is how I remember that fateful morning September 11, 2001.

The first class I had was geometry. It was great to get out of that class and move on to something more relevant... World History. I love history. Upon passing hour to World History, a classmate, Stephanie Phifer, met me at the foot of the stair well. She was excited, not in a good way, just a dramatic way. "A plane flew into the World Trade Center". My reply was, "Where is that?" "New York" she said. She gave me a short explanation on what the towers looked like and I vaguely remembered seeing them when my 8th grade class took a trip to Manhattan. I said, "Oh, I think I walked right under them when I was there..." After my short and quick conversation with her, I walked into my history class. In the middle of the room, the TV was on. Live coverage of New York was on. In the front of the room, there was my history teacher, Ms. Morman, hand over her mouth, the look of pure horror on her face. As the rest of our class came in, there was silence. Everyone looked to Ms. Morman for an understanding. I dont remember too much of what she said but I know there was still confusion as to what was actually going on. The one thing I remembered her saying was, "history is being made here today, right now. We must move on with class, I will leave the TV on mute". My back was turned toward the TV and later on, toward the middle of class, someone exclaimed, "The 2nd tower just got hit!" My immediate response to the classmate next to me was, "This is a terrorist attack!". Lets just say, the TV stayed off mute after that. My next class was an English class of some sort. I really dont remember much of that class because the teacher annoyed me and I dont like English classes. What I remember from that class (and as the years go by, it gets more and more fuzzy) is, hearing the rumor that the Pentagon was hit and a plane went down in PA. It was in this class, the horror of the day was sinking in, with every detail that unfolded, it felt like the world as we knew it, America as we knew it, our government as we knew it, would be turned upside down and we would never be the same again. At this point, I was worried about the safety of myself, family and friends.
In the week following the attacks on September 11, 2001, I went to look at the pictures I took during my trip to New York and uncovered this picture:

I cannot remember when the national candlelight vigil was... either a week or 2 after the attacks or the one year anniversary. These are the pictures of that evening.

At the time of the attacks, I felt the sense of fear, desperation, sorrow and hopefulness.
I felt fear because I have never in my lifetime sensed that level of vulnerability in our nation... the nation I loved and admired for being so strong. For a moment, I second guessed our strength.
I felt desperation because, even at 16 years old, I felt the urgency to "do something". All I wanted to do was go to New York and do something to help... do something to extend a hand. But I could not. I did not have the resources nor the support to go. The only thing I could do was live my life and do it well.
I felt sorrow for everyone effected by the tragedy of that day. To see the injured walking away from the dust. To see the look of horror and shock. It left a lump in your throat to see the rows and rows of pictures with the question, "Have you seen me?".
I felt hopefulness throughout that first week, with every passing day... "How many people did they save from the rubble?" I eagerly watched the news, hoping for more and more people to be found so that those rows of pictures could be taken down with the joy of that miracle.

I will never forget 9/11/2001. The weight of the tragic day will always have a hold on my heart. I wonder if there will ever be a September 11th where I will not cry.. will the tears ever fade? I will be okay if they dont. I hope the the generations to come can grow up with the respect of what this day meant, what it did. I hope people can understand around the world how much of an impact the tragedy of September 11, 2001 had, not only on our great nation... but the world  and our lives as we know it.

God speed to the families left behind. God speed to the families affected by the war on terrorism. God speed to our wonderful and brave men and women in uniform who live to defend our freedom. We are forever indebted to you.

God Bless America!