My 9/11 Story

A week ago, our friend Woody was in town, and we briefly talked about today, the 8-year anniversary of the attacks on September 11, 2001. He said that, at some point, he wanted to write down his memories of that day so that he could have a record of them in the future. I think that's a great idea, and I'm going to put mine here. I probably won't have this blog in 50 years, but I'll at least have my thoughts written down in one form.

I was a senior in high school on that day, and the first plane hit as I was driving to school. I was listening to the Musers on the Ticket, and right before I headed into the building, they mentioned something about a fire at the World Trade Center. I didn't really think much of it at the time, and I went inside like any other day. My first period class was speech, and we had our class as usual.

With only a few minutes left in the class, our teacher left the room. And when he came back, he told us what had happened. The World Trade Center had been attacked. He did a pretty good job of calmly telling us about it, but he probably could've simply said that our lives were forever changed. Because they were.

Luckily for me, my second and third period classes were both journalism-based classes. Second period was our TV news class, and third period was print. So I spent the first couple of hours after I received the news in front of a television set, watching it all happen. And I'll admit the same thing that many people have said - it looked like a movie. We were so used to seeing images of our buildings being destroyed in film that we immediately thought of that.

My fourth period class was economics, and I can distinctly remember that class. My teacher told us (and I'm summarizing here) that things happen in the world, but it's our responsibility to move on. "Moving on" was going to be a pretty solid theme in the days following 9/11, but it was still going on at this point. Even today, I think it was way too soon to have class.

But it didn't matter - we had economics class that day. While the rest of the nation was in a panic, we talked dollars and cents. Supply and demand. The law of diminishing returns.

And it's a bit ironic, now that I think about it, that the only class I had that day was in economics. Because while the attack was mostly on the American psyche, the biggest physical damage might've been economic.

My next period was lunch, and I went off campus. And all I can really remember is talking to my mom on the phone. I'd heard that the towers had collapsed, and that there were attacks other places. And it seemed like all I did that day was wait for more bad news to happen. Luckily, by that point, all of the attacks were over.

The rest of the day is a blur to me. I don't remember my 6th or 7th period classes, but I know my 8th period class was cancelled. My Pre-Cal teacher acknowledged the importance of the day, and she arranged for us to watch television in the auditorium for an hour.

Then I went home. And the most vivid thing I can remember about September 11 is this intense fear of the unknown. Like many other Americans, I figured this was the beginning of the end. That 9/11 was just the beginning of a brave new world where our naive sense of protection had been shattered. That we'd see attacks rise in quantity and severity. That, perhaps, attacks would kill myself or a loved ones.

On that day, I never would've imagined that I'd smile again. Or laugh again. Or feel safe. I never thought I'd fly on another airplane, securely watch a baseball game in a stadium, or travel abroad. And that fear that I felt was so strong and so real that I imagined I would feel it forever.

Slogans like "we will never forget" were thrown around as brand-new American flags were flown, and I thought it was ridiculous. How would it be possible to forget that day? Those images? That fear?

And here we are, eight years later, and it sometimes feels like a bad dream. And I realize that, for a lot of people, that feeling won't go away. But since 9/11 didn't touch me as closely as it touched others, I was able to heal a bit easier.

And now I don't think twice about getting on an airplane or packing into a stadium. And I think the US government deserves a lot of credit for that restored sense of security. As irresponsible as they seem at times, they've made sure that another 9/11 hasn't happened yet. And if you would've asked me back then whether we would've been hit again by 9/11/2009, I would've laughed.

Eight years? I didn't think we'd make eight days.

And now the "we will never forget" slogans don't seem as ridiculous. Because as we go on with our lives, it gets easier to forget. Even the scar at the World Trade Center itself is healing as we get used to a New York City skyline minus the Twin Towers.

But I think, especially on this day, we need to make sure we take some time to remember that day. Remember the people who died in the attacks - in New York and Washington. Remember the brave firefighters who fought the flames on that day - whether they came back or not. Remember the courageous people on Flight 93 who gave their lives to make sure that another American landmark wasn't hit.

Because as bad as that day was, imagine how it would've been if the White House had been destroyed. Or the Capitol Building. The passengers on Flight 93 are American heroes, and we owe them a lot.

So I encourage you to look back and write down some thoughts from that day. Because one day your children and grandchildren are going to want to know what happened on that day. And while it's still pretty fresh in our minds, I think we should have an accurate record for them.