A decade. 1/10th of a century. A mere blip of time since the unspeakable acts of pure hatred were enacted on innocent citizens in America. It feels so strange to know that ten years have come and gone since that tragic day, especially when the effects are lasting and permanent to all who were involved.
I remember being in my 7th grade technology class on Long Island and sensing something pivotal had happened based on the expression on my teacher’s face. I remember our teacher was silent for a few moments in a desperate attempt to get a firm grasp on his words and stop the wavering in his voice as to not frighten us any more than necessary. I remember his words were shaky and his voice filled with raw emotion as he explained the situation that was taking place right at this moment. I remember the creeping sense of shock that overtook myself and my classmates. I remember our teacher wheeling in a television so we could see for ourselves what was happening to a city that was so close to home, a city that many of us connected so deeply with. I remember the panic on the faces of classmates who had family or friends who lived, worked, or just happened to be in NYC that day. I remember the announcements over the loud speaker to remain calm, strong, and above all, to pray for those people who were murdered today. I remember the physical reaction we all had to the word murder. I remember feeling numb as I walked to and from classes for the remainder of the day. I remember feeling first terror, then relief when I remembered that my father was not working in the city as he should have been that day. I remember feeling terrified of the possibility of more attacks and seeing the same terror reflected in the eyes of my peers. I remember being a child who had to see senseless acts of violence and horror and trying desperately to understand why this was happening. I remember coming home and crying with my mother. I remember sitting on the couch in my living room and watching the news reports with updated images and accounts of the situation in NYC and Washington. I remember nightmares filled with smoke and the terrorized and ashen faces of civilians in the city. I remember waking up and seeing flag after flag after flag outside each house on my way to school; the sheer amount of red, white and blue bled together into one single image. I remember talking about what had happened and the teacher’s monitoring our reactions to the situation. I remember trying to make sense of a senseless act. I remember it all. I’ll always remember September 11th, 2001.
Even though today is a day to remember those who lost their lives on that grave day, it is also a day to celebrate life and the strength that our country has shown in the light of such devastation. I’ve never been so proud to be a New Yorker and to be living in this amazing city filled with strong, courageous people. Remembering that day ten years ago that changed everything.
