9-11: A New Perspective Each Year

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9-11September 11, 2001 — Past

Fourteen years ago on this day, I heard that the first plane hit the World Trade Center on the radio and had no idea what was going on. It was a beautiful fall day; there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I thought it was a bad dream.

When I turned on the TV in my dorm room, my roommate and I watched as a second plane hit the second tower. We were speechless. We didn’t know what to do. At that moment, our lives changed, but we didn’t know it. I went to class and tried to listen to a music appreciation lecture, but, in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in the world outside. A girl sat in front of me and had her cell phone sitting on her desk. This was the time before smartphones and texting. She stared at the phone willing it to ring. It did. She immediately jumped up and ran out of class. I never saw her again. I have always wondered if she had a family member in one of the World Trade Centers.

After class let out, I walked to “The Main” (the TCU student center). We all watched the news coverage on three large televisions. Students hugged and listened. It was eerily quiet. Then the towers fell. When huge plumbs of ash filled the TV screens, tears flowed down our faces and fear flashed in our eyes.

I watched the news all day. I saw horrific pictures that will never leave my memory. I saw people hurt and dying. I saw an act of terror. I called home and cried. This beautiful fall day was tarnished.

September 11, 2014 — Perspective

Every year on the anniversary, I have said a prayer for all the families involved. I watched endless news stories, read conspiracy theories, listened to the songs of remembrance, and prayed that an event like this would never happen again on American soil. Each year, certain memories of that day fade a little more into grey. However, it wouldn’t be until September 11, 2014 that the magnitude of this event hit me; yet again, I cried.

That morning started like any other. My husband got ready for work, my daughter played in her crib, and my son watched PBS cartoons. At 6:45 a.m., hubby kissed me goodbye when he left for work. But what caught me off guard as I told him I loved him was what I said next: Be careful. I never said this to him before he drove to work. His commute is only five minutes and two streets, but something deep inside of me felt the need to say it.

At breakfast, I made my coffee and looked out the kitchen window at this crystal clear sky and the slight breeze after a morning thunderstorm. I shivered, and tears welled up as I remembered it being the same kind of early fall morning in Texas. It was hauntingly beautiful.

I looked into the playroom and saw two of the most innocent children playing. They have NO idea how much this day 13 years ago changed the future of their county. Their biggest decision of the day will be to play with the musical flashlight or blocks. I watched my son innocently taking care of his baby toy kitten, reassuring her that she will be safe and warm in his blanket.

It struck me.

This is exactly the morning that all the wives had the morning of 9-11. Sending their husbands off to work and kissing them goodbye, wishing this to be a good day. Watching their kids play innocently while at that very moment their lives were about to change forever.

I can’t imagine getting the last phone call from my husband saying that something has happened and no matter what happens he loves me dearly. Hanging up the phone knowing that it would be the last time I talked to him. That the normal kiss and hug this morning would be our last. I put myself in their shoes for the first time.

I looked at the kids, thinking how I would tell them daddy isn’t coming home and trying to explain it all to them without tarnishing their innocence. Imagining their little voices ask over and over “Where is daddy?” I felt the biggest pit in the bottom of my stomach and my heart break.

September 11, 2015+ — Future

With everything happening in the world today, I have to wonder if we will have another similar, large scale event on American soil that will once again change the course of history. At the time of 9/11, I was 18 years old, still very young, even though I truly thought I was an adult. Now, I sit on the verge of turning 33, and each year, my eyes are opened to different emotions of that day. I will always see the passion of the first responders racing to the scene to help people. The tremendous emotion President Bush must have felt hearing this attack on the people he governs. The countless fears and anxieties of all who watched those moments of the attack worldwide. Then, my eyes were opened to the wives that became widows in a matter of seconds. I’m sure my perspective will change when my children come to me asking about where I was that September morning.

I will never forget September 11, 2001, and I will never stop praying for all those involved. Although the memories of the day may fade, they will always be a part of our history. I will forever be proud to be an American.

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