My journey through the world of writing and everything that lies in between…

Remembering 9/11

Where were you eight years ago today?

Eight years ago today, our country–and the world–was changed forever.

I was a junior in high school when it happened. I remember first hearing about it from my English teacher, who came in all frazzled and worried. A few of the students laughed when she mentioned it, but I just cried. I remember thinking how callous some  of the students were, but in hindsight, they probably didn’t realize how serious it was at the time. Once I started crying, I remember the laughter going quiet. Especially as I saw other teachers in the hallway talking and looking worried.

That day was a half day (already planned; it was supposed to be parent/teacher conferences later, but obviously that was cancelled). I remember going through the halls as quickly as possible to get to the parking lot where my Mom was waiting. I remember getting into the car and just crying before any words were spoken. Mom had the radio on and we listened to the accounts of what happened on the way home.

I hadn’t seen any footage of what happened yet so I was having a hard time picturing it. When we got home, Mom turned on the TV and they replayed footage of when the second plane hit. It was more horrific than I could’ve imagined; I collapsed to the floor and started crying. I couldn’t really fathom that all of this was really happening. It just seemed like a really bad dream.

The rest of the day was a blur for me really; we picked up my sister later from school and she’d said they showed some of it in class. We went over to my grandparents’ house that evening just for comfort of being around family.

The days after that were different–no planes in the sky, the solemn mood in school (and some of the kids in my English class apologizing to me for laughing). There was a sense of community for a short time.

I find it amazing how tragedy brings everyone together. If only that could be the case all the time…

I’m remembering all those who were lost that day. Let them never be forgotten.

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Never forget...

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Comments on: "Remembering 9/11" (4)

  1. I was travelling home when the news broke, so I didn’t hear about the planes straight away. When I got in the door, as I normally do, I switched on the kettle, the computer and the television. Before I had a chance to make myself coffee I realized the news was on every channel, and the enormity of the situation.

    It is one of the few times I was unable to even think about making any kind of personal addition to the words already being written. There was nothing I could have added that would have been as powerful as the images being transmitted around the world.

    The images were terrifying from a distance, seperated by the Atlantic and through a television, so actually being in the midst of the anarchy must have been completely bewildering. The firefighters and other emergency services who responded to the scene deserve nothing less than the highest respect for their actions.

    At the time I saw little benefit in endlessly replaying the actual footage of the towers falling, but I have since come to the conclusion that the deconstruction of events into mere images and abstract scenes must have been a coping mechanism by the news editors.

    I really see no need to torture myself by watching any of the parade of shows currently running to mark the anniversary. I’ll buy the books to hear the stories which must be remembered, but the footage of the collapse of the towers is being lessened (and cheapened somehow) by being constantly shown on television at the moment.

  2. I would never want to forget either.
    You’re right, they didn’t understand. I sure didn’t. I was eighteen and at my first real job. I had no clue what the twin towers were and at first I didn’t understand what the big deal was. Now I do. It took a while, but now I get how horrible it was. Thanks for posting!

  3. I was getting ready for work when I heard it on the radio. I ran and put on the television and saw the buildings come down live. I remember my knees going weak at the sight.

  4. You know, I wonder if the laughter isn’t just a different, less socially acceptable reaction. I was a Junior in High School when Challenger exploded and it was exactly the same. I felt the blood drain out of my face and knew I was beyond pale. At the same time, someone behind me made a JOKE about it – like they’d planned it! I’ve mercifully forgotten the joke, but never the reaction.

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