I think it's important to remember as much as we can. It's easy with happy memories. It's harder with the sad ones because all we want to do is forget. I'm posting this tonight so that it can be read tomorrow...and we can remember.
10 years ago, I was oblivious. I had been married for 2 months and just such a naive 20 year old. I woke up, too early for my tastes, but I was scheduled to opened for Admissions at CSUSB. I was tired and didn't want to be there. I walked in and found my coworker listening to the radio. (Ugh. News. I hate the news. Can't we pit on some music) He told me a plane had crashed in New York, right into one of the Twin Towers. So we sat and listened while we got our office ready for the day. As we were listening, we heard them announce another one had just flown right into the second tower. THAT got our attention. The first was an "accident." This second crash made it obvious that we were under attack. The calls started coming in. Would school be in session? We didn't know. Nobody knew if we were targets all across the country or if it was isolated to New York. In-between calls, I tried to contact my husband. At the time, he worked in an office in the parking lot of Angel Stadium. Would that be a target? What about Disneyland? That's just down the street!
He was fine and being sent home. Then we heard the Pentagon had been hit. (Oh My Gosh, this is not happening right now) Another plane went down in Pennsylvania. We didn't know if it was related to the others. We would later find put that brave Americans took over the plane and sacrificed their lives to keep this plane from hitting the White House.
School was cancelled and we were told to go home. I drove to my grandparents because at home I would be alone. When I finally got there, I was able to see the footage of the planes crashing into the towers. Words cannot describe it. But then...we watched as the towers collapsed, one at a time. I cried. I cried out of fear. I cried for the people I didn't know who were caught in those buildings. I cried for their families. I cried for the service men and women who lost their lives, running into the wreckage to save others. I cried for my brother.
My brother, who 4 months before had received his commissioning as an officer in the United States Marine Corps. I knew he would be going to war. I didn't know when, but I knew.
He served 4 tours and he is with us today. We are lucky. I am lucky to have such a wonderful brother, who fights for those who cannot, who didn't have a chance that day. God bless him.
My story is not special. I didn't know anyone personally who lost their lives that day. But I will remember them. They never had a chance to fight. If I can, I will fight for them. If I can't do that, then you better be sure I'm keeping their memories alive. Never Forget.
Please, share your story. Whether you leave a comment here, or write it somewhere else, even if it's in a private journal. Share it.