A Day of Remembrance

I've never written down what I remember from September 11, 2001. But today I feel compelled, after watching all the tributes, to put it down in writing so I don't forget the details.

I woke up to my stereo--it was set to wake me up around 6:45, tuned to NPR. Time to get ready for teaching 6th grade at Towne Meadows Elementary in Gilbert. I didn't listen to the radio at first, it just seemed like normal chatter in the background. It was after my shower that I listened closer and realized what the reporters were saying. There was fire and destruction at the World Trade Center in New York. I didn't believe it and went to the front room to turn on the TV. The first image I remember seeing was of both towers smoking and I honestly couldn't understand it.

I ran to get Mom from her room and told her there was an attack in New York. We stared at the TV and simply cried. It was hard to comprehend all the information coming at us. We watched together as the first tower fell. I called Malcom to make sure he knew what was going on; he was already watching too. I struggled through the rest of getting ready and finally tore myself from the news to drive to work.

On the freeway I remember being aware of every other person in their cars around me. We were all suffering together. There was a man standing on one of the overpasses, holding a huge American flag. People honked and waved as they drove past. He stood there every day during morning and evening rush-hour for an entire month. I always loved seeing him up there.

I got to school and we had an emergency staff meeting. Our principal told us that it would be okay to talk about the events with our classes, but to also try to get on with our daily routines. She said she would announce any significant news on the PA, but that we were not allowed to check any websites or watch the TV while the kids were in class. It was hard to be the calm, collected, knowledgeable adult with the kids that day. We did the pledge during morning announcements like always, but I couldn't get past the first few words without crying. The kids were good and they wanted to talk, so we did. I just let them raise their hands and comment; I tried to dispel rumors or correct bad information the best I could, but I didn't have much more information than they did.

At lunch, I heard that one of the teachers had the TV on in her room. She had blacked out the window on her door so kids couldn't see in. I took my lunch in there and watched for as long as I could. The rest of the day passed without incident. The kids were able to function well and it took my mind off the tragedy. I was relieved to get in the car after school and let my guard down. I cried again as I listened to the radio, watched the man with the flag on the overpass, and saw many other flags in the city flying at half-mast.

Malcom and I spent time together that night, I think at his apartment. We just watched the TV without much interruption. I remember all the images of people running through clouds of dust; the exciting stories about people who helped each other; reports of a few more people found alive in the wreckage.

Over the next few days, we were all glued to the TV, radio and internet whenever we could be. One of the evenings of that week, it all became too much. Malcom and I finally turned off the TV and went to the mall just to distract ourselves. It felt eerie to be there; it was surprisingly quiet and didn't hold any form of comfort.

I especially remember in the weeks that followed how much I appreciated seeing our flag everywhere. It was a wonderful reminder of our nation's strength. I felt connected to every stranger that I saw, knowing that we were sharing a grief that didn't need to be discussed, it was just understood. I loved seeing people wear so much red, white, and blue when it wasn't the Fourth of July. I miss that.

I also remember the first time I saw an airplane in the sky again. It was a week later, maybe longer, and it was shocking to see. I was driving home and saw a plane pass over the freeway. I watched it progress as if it was my first time seeing one. It was simultaneously scary and liberating to know that our country was trying to get moving again.

I don't know anyone personally who died that day, although I know people who do. My grieving even 10 years later seems superficial compared to what others have felt. But I feel the sorrow now almost as acutely as I did then. I am surprised at how fractured and unstable our country feels 10 years later. I wish we could always feel as connected as we did during those months following September 11th. I'm sure that Heavenly Father is still blessing our great nation, but these are crazy times and I don't have much faith in the government right now. Even so, I'm grateful for the chance to remember, especially to honor those who died saving others on 9/11 and those who have always fought for our freedoms. Because of them, my life is so easy and full of opportunity.

I'm looking forward to going to "Ground Zero" in New York next week; excited to see the new landmark there. Even though I won't know any of the names there, I hope to pay my respects to all the people who died, especially the rescue workers who sacrificed themselves.

I hope my kids will one day understand what all this means to our generation and how it changed us.