Remembering 9/11 16 Years Later

• Steve
• September 11, 2017
• 0 Comment
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Today marks 16 years since the terror attack on the United States known as 9/11.  For those of us old enough to remember, I’m sure we know exactly where we were a plane struck the first tower of the World Trade Center, then another plane hit the second tower.  For me I was in my dorm room at the University of Massachusetts, fresh out of the shower.  I watched in awe and confusion as the news reports started to roll out.  What started as a seemingly tragic accident, turned into an intentional act of hate.

So much changed for me personally and the country I knew and loved on that day.  I can honestly say I lost focus.  For so many people they point to that day and say they gained focus and direction, they became aware of their purpose.  For myself, I lost my way.  I know longer knew what I wanted to do with myself, I didn’t understand my feelings or emotions, I knew the event was something that was going to change the world, but had no idea how.  I was scared of the idea of being embroiled in a war inside our Nation’s boarders.  I had just turned 21 the previous week, we partied like rock stars through the weekend, and instantly none of it mattered.

I considered dropping everything and enlisting in the military, or joining the police department, or state highway patrol, or maybe a federal agency.  I told my parents I was thinking of leaving school and they pushed me to get my degree, because I would go further with a degree in those career choices than without one.  I stayed in school and did obtain my degree, but again there was constant doubt as to if what I was doing made sense, was it worth it, could I, or should I be doing more?

I didn’t know how I could help, and I realized not many people actually cared what I did.  I was only one person, and I was insignificant (in my mind).  I couldn’t help find Osama Bin Laden, I couldn’t help decipher messages that could prevent future Al Qaeda attacks, I didn’t have the authority to jail people for abusive behavior towards Sikh’s being confused for Muslims, or Muslims being attacked for their religion.  With all my physical strength, I felt weak.

Overtime I slowly matured and began to find my own voice and my own thought process on global issues such as 9/11, but there are still lingering effects of that day and what it did to my personal psyche.  Every year I hear a different story of the direct impact 9/11 had on so many families, so many people who lost their lives, they lost a loved one, they were too close to the debris and are now fighting cancer.  Just today driving into work I hear the story of how for months after the attack, 1000’s of cars sat in the parking lots at the train stations because their owners were dead and their family members either forgot, or didn’t have the desire to retrieve the cars.  Those cars sat there through different seasons, and storms, and collected dust and bird shit for months.  At what point did people realize what they were seeing everyday? Did that realization rip open wounds that frankly were no where near healing yet?

Through all of that I can say the Flag, the National Anthem, what it means to be an American took on new meaning for me.  I saw people of races and origins come together to fight whatever was coming at us.  We didn’t all join a fighting force, but the act of going on with our lives in the face of those that wanted to see our way of life blown to hell, was the fight that we took to the terrorists.  The fact that for a few years we as a country were a cohesive unit on helping New York and Washington D.C. heal and rebuild.  The fact that on that day, we saw true Hero’s run into buildings when everyone else was running out, only to never run out themselves.  Yes, the terrorist that attacked us showed us the worst in humanity, but the response from Americans and good people from around the world showed us the absolute very best of humanity.

Never Forget, Never Forgotten.