Growing up, my grandparents would describe where they were and how they felt when they heard that Pearl Harbor had been bombed. For my parent's generation, they can describe where they were and how they felt when they learned about Kennedy being shot. And all of us can describe where we were and how we felt when we saw the planes hit the Twin Towers and watched them fall.
I remember getting a call from Greg, who was at work. When I answered it, he urgently said: "Turn on the TV." I asked him which channel, and he said that it didn't matter. When I turned it on, only the first plane had hit and people were still unsure exactly what had happened. I sat on the couch and watched the North Tower burn. Austin had been born two months earlier, and we had a port-a-crib set up in our living room. He was asleep in the crib. I remember watching the plane hit the South Tower. It happened so fast that even the news reporters were astonished and had trouble getting their mind together to verbalize what was happening. As reporters tried to piece together the stories and theories, I watched in disbelief. Greg and I spoke on the phone a number of times, as he was watching the coverage at work. When the South Tower fell, I remember losing my breath, picking up my brand new, perfect little baby, and just crying. I remember thinking, "What have I done? How could I bring a person into a world where these things happen?" Then, I remember watching and anxiously waiting for the second tower to fall.
It was truly unbelievable.
We had friends in New York, and our first priority was to make sure everybody was safe. I remember being on the phone with my sister as she was trying to make contact with people in New York. We were beyond relieved when we found out that everybody was safe.
I had a friend from work who was on a business trip in Japan. He had taken his wife and two little boys with him (they were babies really - one was an infant and the other a toddler). They had made it to Canada, but were grounded because all air traffic shut down for days after the attacks. it was strange to think that it wasn't safe for them to make it home. Those must have been some extremely long days for them, living in the airport, just wanting to bring their kids home.
About 6 weeks after the attacks, I went to New York with my sister and my friend and her boys. My friend's husband had joined the National Guard, learned Arabic, and was sent to New York to aid in interrogation. She was going to visit, and we decided to tag along. At 3 1/2 months old, I took Austin to a city that I loved that was still very much suffering. We walked to Ground Zero (or at least as close as you could get), which was still very much a recovery zone. The fires were still burning, there was still a considerable amount of dust and debris, and there were giant machines working to move all the rubble. There were walls erected with messages from loved ones of people who had perished, along with flowers and "Missing Person" posters. Most people still wore masks.
Do you know what I remember the most about my time in New York in October 2001: I remember people helping us with our three little boys; carrying strollers down subway steps, gentlemen immediately giving up seats on the subway, strangers asking us our story and expressing their gratitude (many with tears in their eyes) to my friend for her and her husband's service to our country. It was still a very solemn, surreal feeling in that city, but one with so much love, care, and concern. It made me love the people of New York so much more than I already did.
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It has been an interesting couple of days. Austin has been quite fascinated by the events of 10 years ago, and we have showed him some pictures and let him watch some of the TV specials. It's just hard to fathom how that day changed our country and his entire way of life. It is strange to think that my children don't know a reality in which 9 11 didn't exist. I realize that it wasn't the most significant event in history, based on the number of lives lost. I hear some people throw out numbers of those that have died in the military efforts in the Middle East since the attacks on the twin towers (military deaths and civilian deaths). I understand all of these points, and I think they are valid.
But what is hard to explain to my children is that I have lived parts of my life where our country wasn't at war. I have stood in those buildings; I knew people that worked there. I never thought I was in any danger because nobody had successfully carried out a terrorist attack of that magnitude before. You could actually walk your loved one to the gate as they got on an airplane and even watched that exact plane take off. You could attend a baseball game or concert without passing a check-point in which you turned over your purse, bags, and jackets. My children do not know of this reality. I think that when those planes hit the towers that day (and consequently the Pentagon and Flight 93 in Pennsylvania), as a nation, we knew we were vulnerable. We knew that there were people that hated us (as Americans) so much that they would sacrifice their lives to take innocent lives and destroy family.
But what is even harder to explain to my children is that I have had the privilege of getting a very small glimpse into the heart of Americans. I have seen people love each other deeply, regardless of whether or not they are technically "strangers". I have seen a nation pull together, reach out to one another in charity, and actually call upon God collectively. The past 10 years have been rough, and we (as a Nation) have forgotten how we treated each other after these attacks. Life has forced us to move on, to worry about the insignificant, and to criticize the petty. It is human nature to do so, as history has shown us over and over again.
I think it is good to have anniversaries and memorials. It is essential that all of the innocent who died that day are not forgotten. It is important for us to retell, over and over again, the miraculous stories of courage and sacrifice that emerged from this tragedy. It is good for our souls to feel hope. And I believe, that as a Nation, it is necessary for us to try to put all the petty aside again (even if for one day) and recall those feelings and emotions - the good and the bad - and recommit ourselves to doing a little bit better and loving a little deeper because we never know what tomorrow will bring.
In a talk by President James E. Faust, he relates one of the many unselfish, miraculous stories that emerged from the attacks on the World Trade Center. He tells the story of Rick Rescorla of Morgan Stanley who refused to leave the burning building until every one of his employees made it out. Although the tower collapsed before he could evacuate, all but 6 of his 2,700 employees survived the attack. President Faust states that "Most of us don't demonstrate our unselfishness in such a dramatic way, but for each of us unselfishness can mean being the right person at the right time in the right place to render service. Almost every day brings opportunities to perform unselfish acts for others. Such acts are unlimited and can be as simple as a kind word, a helping hand, or a gracious smile."
This is the message that I choose to carry with me from 9 11, and these are the lessons that I hope I am teaching my children.
It is important to simply remember.
