9/ll Still Hurts Today
September 11th 2009 09:52
It was before nine in the morning. I was getting my four daughters ready for school, dressing them, hurried as usual. The television was on but I really wasn't paying much attention. Like so many others, I was wrapped up in the business of the morning, just trying to get the girls out the door in time to catch their bus. My youngest daughter was turning nine in eight days, my oldest was thirteen, her birthday coming up in October.
I remember sitting directly in front of the tv, fixing one of my daughter's hair and just about ready to send my girls on their way when I heard it announced that a commercial plane had just hit the north tower of the World Trade Center. I watched as live video was being shown of the horrific sight, smoke billowing from the building on a clear and sunny day. I listened to the commentary of one reporter as he eluded to the possibility of a terror attack. I remember feeling so angry that this reporter had jumped to such a fantastic conclusion, that even to suggest such a thing was nothing more than sensationalism. I remember telling my girls how mad that made me feel. Then, as I continued to watch the coverage, I was one of so many Americans who actually witnessed the second plane plowing into the south tower as it happened. I was stunned and my heart just sank.
The tears came immediately. I knew this was no fluke, this was a terrorist attack on American soil that I would never have believed could happen to this degree. The sheer magnitude of these events was impossible to realize just at that moment because the reality of it would not fully sink in until later that day. I sent the girls off to school and continued to watch the coverage, a sick feeling eating at my insides as I thought of all those people who surely perished in the buildings.
I can't remember if I called my sister or if she called me. It was just after the Pentagon was hit about half an hour later. My sister lives in Virginia, so needless to say, we were both concerned about what would happen next...and where. Then came the collapse of the south tower and the crash of flight 93 in Pennsylvania. This was all too much to take in, too much to comprehend. Then the north tower collapsed.
After talking to my sister on the phone, I went to my neighbors' house to find that they, too, were in shock and glued to the television set. There are simply no words that could express the absolute disbelief, grief, and anger we all felt that day. We watched more coverage of what was happening on the ground in Manhattan and learned of the hundreds of firefighters and police officers who lost their lives that day. The sheer numbers were beyond comprehension. Then estimates were coming in of how many people working in the towers lost their lives and it was staggering. As I watched this dark plume race through the streets of Manhattan like a huge, hungry monster and people fleeing, bloodied and covered in soot, the surreal sight was something out of a science fiction movie. Maybe when I went to sleep I'd find it was all just a terrible dream.
I know we all will remember that day. We will remember how much we cried and how helpless we felt. We will remember how America united in such a way like no other time in history. We will remember how the world embraced us in our darkest days. We will remember the heroes and the thousand other innocent people who lost their lives that day. And we will cry again.
MY VISIT TO GROUND ZERO
I visited Ground Zero in August of 2005. I met up with someone I'd gotten to know just talking online, a former volunteer firefighter, one of the heroes who was there on that fateful day, desperately trying to find anyone who may have survived the collapse of the towers. This brave firefighter never returned to where the towers once stood after the recovery efforts, so this was his first time back, with me. He was my guide as we walked around and viewed the many pictures and other memorials set up around the perimeter of where the two towers had stood. The area was surrounded by chain link fencing with large photographs and histories of the towers all around.
I then saw another building that had been right next to the towers, windows blown out and a type of tarp covering the side facing the towers. I remembered hearing about this building where body parts of victims had been found. Here the building still stood, a skeleton next to a large pit. I did not know until visiting Ground Zero that the subway ran under the towers and it was in use when I visited there. There was also a booth where people could go and make an audio recording of their story of that day. I don't know what ultimately became of those recordings, but I can imagine how powerful they must be.
I remembered the story of a tiny fire station located across the street from the towers. All the firefighters from that station had perished. We walked by it and I had to hold back the tears. A large brass sign was placed on top of it in honor of the fallen heroes. It's a simple sign saying "FDNY", but seeing it had such a profound effect on me. I had to look it up so I could tell you it is Ladder Co. 10, Engine Co. 10. It is in use today.
On my visit I also saw St. Paul's Church, the small but beautiful brownstone church near Ground Zero that I had seen in the 9/11 documentary depicting the horrors of that day. It had been blanketed by soot and became a sanctuary for the firefighters, police officers, and other volunteers who worked tirelessly to find survivors and to clean up for weeks and months to come. Standing there in front of that church, all I could think of were the images I'd seen on television in the aftermath of destruction. Though this church stands very close to where the towers once stood, it suffered no damage. It quickly became a makeshift memorial in the days following 9/ll, where thousands of pictures of the missing were posted along its wrought iron fences. Though all that was gone when I visited, it was still a very surreal feeling to be standing at its fence and to know all the pain and grief that took place there. I am not a religious person, don't believe in a God, but being in the presence of St. Paul's greatly affected me. I hurt so much for all the lives lost and cried many more tears.
I left Manhattan one day before the tower lights were to be turned on and regret that I wasn't there to see them. I have pictures of my visit there on a computer I still keep stored in my shed. The computer crashed one day and I've held onto it in hopes of recovering the pictures somehow. I did put them on a disc, but I am not sure where it is now. I hope I find it as I would love to share the pictures with those who haven't had the opportunity to visit Ground Zero. I hope to visit again soon.
9/ll was a dark day for us all. Many of you reading this may have lost loved ones or friends in the towers, or at the Pentagon, or in Pennsylvania. Please know that they are not forgotten and never will be forgotten. The pain of their loss still fills our hearts as though it just happened today. I know...because I cried while writing this. The wound that terrorism tore into our hearts will never heal.
I remember sitting directly in front of the tv, fixing one of my daughter's hair and just about ready to send my girls on their way when I heard it announced that a commercial plane had just hit the north tower of the World Trade Center. I watched as live video was being shown of the horrific sight, smoke billowing from the building on a clear and sunny day. I listened to the commentary of one reporter as he eluded to the possibility of a terror attack. I remember feeling so angry that this reporter had jumped to such a fantastic conclusion, that even to suggest such a thing was nothing more than sensationalism. I remember telling my girls how mad that made me feel. Then, as I continued to watch the coverage, I was one of so many Americans who actually witnessed the second plane plowing into the south tower as it happened. I was stunned and my heart just sank.
The tears came immediately. I knew this was no fluke, this was a terrorist attack on American soil that I would never have believed could happen to this degree. The sheer magnitude of these events was impossible to realize just at that moment because the reality of it would not fully sink in until later that day. I sent the girls off to school and continued to watch the coverage, a sick feeling eating at my insides as I thought of all those people who surely perished in the buildings.
I can't remember if I called my sister or if she called me. It was just after the Pentagon was hit about half an hour later. My sister lives in Virginia, so needless to say, we were both concerned about what would happen next...and where. Then came the collapse of the south tower and the crash of flight 93 in Pennsylvania. This was all too much to take in, too much to comprehend. Then the north tower collapsed.
After talking to my sister on the phone, I went to my neighbors' house to find that they, too, were in shock and glued to the television set. There are simply no words that could express the absolute disbelief, grief, and anger we all felt that day. We watched more coverage of what was happening on the ground in Manhattan and learned of the hundreds of firefighters and police officers who lost their lives that day. The sheer numbers were beyond comprehension. Then estimates were coming in of how many people working in the towers lost their lives and it was staggering. As I watched this dark plume race through the streets of Manhattan like a huge, hungry monster and people fleeing, bloodied and covered in soot, the surreal sight was something out of a science fiction movie. Maybe when I went to sleep I'd find it was all just a terrible dream.
I know we all will remember that day. We will remember how much we cried and how helpless we felt. We will remember how America united in such a way like no other time in history. We will remember how the world embraced us in our darkest days. We will remember the heroes and the thousand other innocent people who lost their lives that day. And we will cry again.
MY VISIT TO GROUND ZERO
I visited Ground Zero in August of 2005. I met up with someone I'd gotten to know just talking online, a former volunteer firefighter, one of the heroes who was there on that fateful day, desperately trying to find anyone who may have survived the collapse of the towers. This brave firefighter never returned to where the towers once stood after the recovery efforts, so this was his first time back, with me. He was my guide as we walked around and viewed the many pictures and other memorials set up around the perimeter of where the two towers had stood. The area was surrounded by chain link fencing with large photographs and histories of the towers all around.
I then saw another building that had been right next to the towers, windows blown out and a type of tarp covering the side facing the towers. I remembered hearing about this building where body parts of victims had been found. Here the building still stood, a skeleton next to a large pit. I did not know until visiting Ground Zero that the subway ran under the towers and it was in use when I visited there. There was also a booth where people could go and make an audio recording of their story of that day. I don't know what ultimately became of those recordings, but I can imagine how powerful they must be.
I remembered the story of a tiny fire station located across the street from the towers. All the firefighters from that station had perished. We walked by it and I had to hold back the tears. A large brass sign was placed on top of it in honor of the fallen heroes. It's a simple sign saying "FDNY", but seeing it had such a profound effect on me. I had to look it up so I could tell you it is Ladder Co. 10, Engine Co. 10. It is in use today.
On my visit I also saw St. Paul's Church, the small but beautiful brownstone church near Ground Zero that I had seen in the 9/11 documentary depicting the horrors of that day. It had been blanketed by soot and became a sanctuary for the firefighters, police officers, and other volunteers who worked tirelessly to find survivors and to clean up for weeks and months to come. Standing there in front of that church, all I could think of were the images I'd seen on television in the aftermath of destruction. Though this church stands very close to where the towers once stood, it suffered no damage. It quickly became a makeshift memorial in the days following 9/ll, where thousands of pictures of the missing were posted along its wrought iron fences. Though all that was gone when I visited, it was still a very surreal feeling to be standing at its fence and to know all the pain and grief that took place there. I am not a religious person, don't believe in a God, but being in the presence of St. Paul's greatly affected me. I hurt so much for all the lives lost and cried many more tears.
I left Manhattan one day before the tower lights were to be turned on and regret that I wasn't there to see them. I have pictures of my visit there on a computer I still keep stored in my shed. The computer crashed one day and I've held onto it in hopes of recovering the pictures somehow. I did put them on a disc, but I am not sure where it is now. I hope I find it as I would love to share the pictures with those who haven't had the opportunity to visit Ground Zero. I hope to visit again soon.
9/ll was a dark day for us all. Many of you reading this may have lost loved ones or friends in the towers, or at the Pentagon, or in Pennsylvania. Please know that they are not forgotten and never will be forgotten. The pain of their loss still fills our hearts as though it just happened today. I know...because I cried while writing this. The wound that terrorism tore into our hearts will never heal.
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