A little heavy for the fare normally contained on this blog, I know. But bear with me. I thought the least I could do this year was remember.
For me, these days, September 11 is both a personal holiday and a national tragedy. My sweet fiancé was born on September 11 almost 22 years ago. If that’s not one heck of a loaded birthday, I just don’t know what is. As we’ve celebrated these past couple of years, it’s seemed like any other birthday, any other day. I’ve been running away from 9/11 since it happened. I’ve never talked to anyone about it. I’ve tried not to think about it. Not that anything tragic or unique happened to me on or because of that day; but there were too many emotions-too much anger, too much grief, too much pain. I didn’t have the heart to sit down and think about what that day was like for the people who died and their families and friends. I was scared that the emotional toll would be more than I could bear. And unlike the people who were actually and directly and horribly affected on that day, I have the option and the luxury to look away. I had the choice and I took the easy way out for almost ten years. But this time is different. Ten years later. So when I saw a special on the National Geographic channel, I thought you need to do this. You owe them that much. So here’s my story:
It was Tuesday, September 11, 2001, (I would have never remembered the day of the week except for all the specials) and I was an 8th grader at Wilson Middle School in Tampa, Florida. School started at 9 a.m. We went to homeroom first where we had the normal beginning of the day routine and took attendance. The teacher would put cards with the names of the students who were present in an envelope and someone would be selected to take the envelope to the media center. That day, I was chosen. I headed off to the media center, envelope in hand, not knowing what had already happened. As I walked up to the desk to hand in our envelope, the librarian and another person were watching a small television in horror. I saw the images we’ve all seen a hundred times by now. Smoke pouring out of the towers. I put the envelope down, watched for a few seconds and returned to my homeroom. I was probably the first kid in school to know what was going on in the world outside our walls. I went back to class and told Mr. Thorton what I saw on TV. It was a long time ago but I recognize now that I had no idea of the impact of the attacks. I didn’t realize what it meant. I didn’t see the bigger picture. I wasn’t overcome by the fear and uncertainty that shown on the faces of the adults around me. In fact, I’m ashamed to say, I probably told him in an attitude of the first person in on the secret. I know I was young but it still makes me sick to know how little I understood. He didn’t believe me. But he turned on the television in our classroom. After that, things get kind of hazy. I’m sure the principal made an announcement at some point. And I know we switched classes like usual. And our math teacher got made because someone made an offhand comment that was probably insensitive. I don’t remember what it was but I remember the look on her face and the tone of her voice as she scolded. She was from Long Island. It was during her class that I was called to the office. My parents were there to pick me up. We went home and watched the television for hours. It was the same all day. After the towers fell, nothing new happened but we kept watching. I remember my parents crying. I don’t know if I did or not. I remember being proud of them for going to donate blood at the Sam’s down the street. They waited in line for over two hours there were so many people who wanted to give. I was the president or vice-president of the National Junior Honor Society and in the weeks following the attack, it was my idea to sell American flag ribbons and donate the proceeds to help with 9/11. I remember at our end of the year assembly, our vice principal told us that when the planes hit the towers, we were saying the pledge of allegiance. I don’t know if that’s true but it made me feel good. On a day when so many people showed a truly American spirit and personified the noblest ideals of this country, at a time when others were trying to tear down everything this nation stands for, I was saying the pledge of allegiance.
Today, at my job, they are broadcasting a 9/11 tribute ceremony that will take place in New York. The company headquarters operated out of floors 93-100 in the North Tower of the World Trade Center. The impact zone of the first plane spanned floors 93 to 99. Nobody in the office survived. They lost 295 employees and 63 consultants.
Maybe your story’s like mine, unremarkable, but many people’s are not. Tens of thousands of people, maybe more, lost someone they loved that day and for the victims and their families and for ourselves and our families and especially for those who were too young to have memories of their own, the least we can do is remember.
For me, these days, September 11 is both a personal holiday and a national tragedy. My sweet fiancé was born on September 11 almost 22 years ago. If that’s not one heck of a loaded birthday, I just don’t know what is. As we’ve celebrated these past couple of years, it’s seemed like any other birthday, any other day. I’ve been running away from 9/11 since it happened. I’ve never talked to anyone about it. I’ve tried not to think about it. Not that anything tragic or unique happened to me on or because of that day; but there were too many emotions-too much anger, too much grief, too much pain. I didn’t have the heart to sit down and think about what that day was like for the people who died and their families and friends. I was scared that the emotional toll would be more than I could bear. And unlike the people who were actually and directly and horribly affected on that day, I have the option and the luxury to look away. I had the choice and I took the easy way out for almost ten years. But this time is different. Ten years later. So when I saw a special on the National Geographic channel, I thought you need to do this. You owe them that much. So here’s my story:
It was Tuesday, September 11, 2001, (I would have never remembered the day of the week except for all the specials) and I was an 8th grader at Wilson Middle School in Tampa, Florida. School started at 9 a.m. We went to homeroom first where we had the normal beginning of the day routine and took attendance. The teacher would put cards with the names of the students who were present in an envelope and someone would be selected to take the envelope to the media center. That day, I was chosen. I headed off to the media center, envelope in hand, not knowing what had already happened. As I walked up to the desk to hand in our envelope, the librarian and another person were watching a small television in horror. I saw the images we’ve all seen a hundred times by now. Smoke pouring out of the towers. I put the envelope down, watched for a few seconds and returned to my homeroom. I was probably the first kid in school to know what was going on in the world outside our walls. I went back to class and told Mr. Thorton what I saw on TV. It was a long time ago but I recognize now that I had no idea of the impact of the attacks. I didn’t realize what it meant. I didn’t see the bigger picture. I wasn’t overcome by the fear and uncertainty that shown on the faces of the adults around me. In fact, I’m ashamed to say, I probably told him in an attitude of the first person in on the secret. I know I was young but it still makes me sick to know how little I understood. He didn’t believe me. But he turned on the television in our classroom. After that, things get kind of hazy. I’m sure the principal made an announcement at some point. And I know we switched classes like usual. And our math teacher got made because someone made an offhand comment that was probably insensitive. I don’t remember what it was but I remember the look on her face and the tone of her voice as she scolded. She was from Long Island. It was during her class that I was called to the office. My parents were there to pick me up. We went home and watched the television for hours. It was the same all day. After the towers fell, nothing new happened but we kept watching. I remember my parents crying. I don’t know if I did or not. I remember being proud of them for going to donate blood at the Sam’s down the street. They waited in line for over two hours there were so many people who wanted to give. I was the president or vice-president of the National Junior Honor Society and in the weeks following the attack, it was my idea to sell American flag ribbons and donate the proceeds to help with 9/11. I remember at our end of the year assembly, our vice principal told us that when the planes hit the towers, we were saying the pledge of allegiance. I don’t know if that’s true but it made me feel good. On a day when so many people showed a truly American spirit and personified the noblest ideals of this country, at a time when others were trying to tear down everything this nation stands for, I was saying the pledge of allegiance.
Today, at my job, they are broadcasting a 9/11 tribute ceremony that will take place in New York. The company headquarters operated out of floors 93-100 in the North Tower of the World Trade Center. The impact zone of the first plane spanned floors 93 to 99. Nobody in the office survived. They lost 295 employees and 63 consultants.
Maybe your story’s like mine, unremarkable, but many people’s are not. Tens of thousands of people, maybe more, lost someone they loved that day and for the victims and their families and for ourselves and our families and especially for those who were too young to have memories of their own, the least we can do is remember.
This is the Staten Island 9/11 Memorial. I used to read all the names while I waited for Nik to finish games when I was up in New York. The memorial honors the 274 Staten Islanders killed on 9/11.
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