I remember.
I can’t believe it’s been five years since the attacks. The world seems so much different now – I think Americans lost part of themselves on that day and most definitely our innocence is gone. We won’t ever feel the same.
Like everyone else, I’ve spent this morning and much of last night reflecting on the events and what I think about them. I’ve prayed for loved ones of those that lost their lives. I had a hard time going to sleep last night – I found myself replaying my memories of that day in my head. Even when I did go to sleep I woke up several times, nervous and unsettled. I felt guilty for doing so –I am just an average person, who fortunately didn’t lose someone on that day.
Everyone has their own story and their own feelings, and you don’t have to read this, but it helps me deal to get things down on paper. I do feel guilty for bothering to post my memories of the day on here. I did this just for myself and like I said, feel free to skip it and head over to CNN or MSNBC for real coverage of the memorials, etc. My thoughts are meaningless, I know.
I was on my way to work and I always listened to Mark Prater on Rick and Bubba. (For the record, I’m not fans of theirs at all, but I used to love Mark Prater’s bit on the show at 7:50 each morning and always listened). At the end of his segment, Mark said, “Hey guys, I don’t know if you know yet, but the World Trade Center is on fire.” I immediately switched the radio to another station to pick up ABC or CNN news as the details unfolded. I picked up the phone when they started saying it appeared a plane had hit and called Kristin and told her to turn on the TV in the break room.
Everything after that was a blur of the other plane hitting, the first tower falling, calling my parents, calling my best friend, listening to my coworker Liz panic as she spoke to her sister in New York. The phone connection went dead just as a man pulled her sister into the basement of his restaurant to protect her from the debris. The second tower fell, the Pentagon, the other plane in the field. I couldn’t believe it. Kristin couldn’t believe it. Chris couldn’t believe it.
We had a trade show scheduled for that night so Kristin and I had to go to an art supply store to buy stuff to use in the booth. As we drove over there a plane went overhead – a military plane – and we both freaked. I told Kristin about Mrs. Boucher telling us in 11th grade that when she was in high school they had to wear dog tags because it was rumored that during the Cuban missile crisis, missiles were aimed at the Redstone Arsenal. We wondered if we were a target.
I remember going back to the office and building that damn ramp for that damn game for the booth and nailing it to the desk. That was the first time any of us had smiled that day. Bobby came in and said something about us turning Afghanistan into a sea of glass. We had lunch in the break room and continued to watch in disbelief as the details unfolded. We prayed more survivors would be found in the rubble. The tradeshow was canceled.
I went home. My mother had been sent home from work because they had shut down. We went to Ruby Tuesday – no one felt like cooking. On the way, we softly talked about the events of the day and my mother cried as she said, “Think about the poor children who lost their parents today.” After dinner I had seen enough television coverage and I flipped over to watch an “I Love Lucy” rerun before going to bed to cry. My heart broke along with everyone else’s. I remember. I will always remember. I don't have the words to do a tribute justice, so I am putting a link here to a site if you have a desire to check it out:
A list of the victims’ names can be found here.
If you want to discuss, share your thoughts, memories, or just leave a comment, please do so.
