Throughout your life, you will hear stories of generations before you. You will learn about events in history that seem SO long ago that you'll wonder why you need to even bother learning them. You will sit in a social studies class and learn about ancient times, or at least what may seem like ancient times, and you will think these events have nothing to do with you. Your grandparents, aunts, uncles, and older cousins will want to share stories of their youth, of how life was when they were your age, or how different things are now. You already know that Daddy and I will share stories of our childhoods with you; in fact, I have already done that in a previous post about the 80's, the first decade of my life. I hope you will listen to these stories and truly want to know the people in your life and who they really are; I hope you will want to learn about where your people came from; I hope you will be intrigued and want to learn from their personal stories. And, I hope one day, you will realize that this "ancient history" isn't so far from your lifetime, and the stories you hear will bring you closer to understanding humanity, love, civility, compassion, and right from wrong.
Tonight, I am sitting here watching you sleep, all warm and cuddly in your crib. And, I have a strong urge to share an incredible story with you. (When I say "incredible" I mean literally "not believable.") I am not sure how I'll ever really explain the details of such an incredible story, but I'm going to do my best. This story is one all boys and girls need to know, it's part of the American story, and it's part of our collective psyche. It's the one story that makes me hate that I brought you into a world where such awful things can happen, but it's the same story that reminds me you were born in an amazing country full of courageous leaders, brave fighters, and noble heroes. It's the story of what will continue to be referred to as "9/11." This phrase refers to a date, September 11th, 2001. That seems like a long time ago, but for me, I can't believe it's already been 11 years.
I was a senior in college that year. I was heading to my 9:00 Reading class (a class where I was taught how to teach reading) in the education building. I decided to take the bus that day - as I did on and off throughout the semester. I was reading a book and trying to focus on it, but as the bus came to a red light and stopped, I couldn't help but overhear the driver's radio that continued to talk about an airplane hitting the World Trade Center in New York. I thought to myself, "What a horrible accident!" I wondered what had happened that a pilot couldn't avoid hitting a tall building like that. The World Trade Center had two towers that rose extremely high in the skyline over the city. It was an unmistakable landmark. How could a pilot ram right into it? A few moments later, still on the bus, I heard the voice describe that yet another plane had crashed into the other tower of the Trade Center. Now, I'm a smart woman, but this idea was so beyond me that I continued to think it was an accident. I kept thinking, "What are the odds of that?!! What is going on?" It never occurred to me that our great country was under attack. Not once. That is until I heard of another plane hitting the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. By the time I heard about the Pentagon attack, I was off the bus and in my classroom - where all of my classmates were sharing what news they had heard. The professor began class, and she seemed quite shaken herself. She was one of my favorite teachers that year - and she was very willing to let us all just talk and share what we knew. Some of my classmates were getting cell phone calls, and they would leave the classroom to hear more information. One classmate came back once with news that there was another airplane that had gone down in a field, and later in the hour, she came back saying that one of the World Trade Center towers had collapsed.
We were in complete shock, and the teacher soon asked if we all just wanted to go home. The class agreed that we should all get home and just stay safe. The University of Texas is a large campus, and we had no idea how many planes were involved, so we were not sure if we were safe to take buses home, if campus was safe, if our homes were safe. It was a very scary time. The only thing I wanted to do was hear my mom's voice, to make sure my family was safe, especially your cousin Brennan who lived in New York then, and I wanted to see Daddy. I did take the bus home that day, because I wanted to get home fast. I know I talked to Aunt Kira pretty soon after that, and Daddy came over to my apartment where we watched the news all week. (At that time, he was a resident assistant at a local dorm, but he stayed with me instead of being at the dorm.) Over and over again, every channel on TV showed the crashing of the planes and the falling of both towers (the other WTC tower collapsed soon after the first one fell). The world would never be the same.
For days, the country just shut down. It was a scary time. It was an awful time. It was a horrible image to get out of your mind, and over and over again, the media would show more footage of the debris, the attack, the pictures of people who were missing, the exhaustion of the firefighters and police officers who labored at Ground Zero. Flags flew in peoples' yards and at stores. The regular television schedule was put on hold for many days; in fact, I remember when Jay Leno first came back on after at least a week of not being able to air his Late Night show. He was teary, and the beginning of his show was very quiet and somber. The whole country, even our comedians, were in shock and in mourning.
We mourned a world where we felt safe. We mourned the men and women who unknowingly boarded a plane to get to a business meeting or to get home and, instead, became part of an ugly, evil, terrorist attack plan. We mourned the police officers, firefighters, and other rescue workers who willingly went TOWARDS the attack to help others and never came out. We mourned the men, women, and children who were simply going about their normal routines at work who had no idea the floor would literally be pulled out from under them that morning. We mourned with the families who lost their mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, and friends. We mourned with all those children who would never see their parent(s) again.
We mourned for a long time, and we still do. Our world was changed, and life is not the same as it was before 9/11. I think we, as a country, have done what we know to do to make ourselves safer without being paranoid and letting the wrong-doers take our freedom away. It's a fine line between giving them too much power and protecting ourselves. I am sorry that you will never know a pre-9/11 world. I am sorry that "terrorism" is a part of our vocabulary at all. I am sorry that your generation will have to work so hard to continue fighting terrorists who wish to take away your freedom, your safety, your peace of mind. But, I have no question that this country will continue to fight for your safety and protection. I have no question that we are on the "right" side of this war on terror.
While 9/11 didn't affect me as personally as it did thousands of other people, we are all a united family. We, as a country, and even as a world, were reminded that there is no promise of a tomorrow. Life can change in an instant - one tiny instant. My sweet boy, cherish every day you have, thank those around you for their work and service, give and show love to the people who mean the most to you, and don't put your dreams on hold. Never forget these important stories, because I'd much rather you learn vicariously than to ever experience such horrible events.
I once saw this in a Macy's ad:
"Today, in your own way, remember and reflect September 11, 2001: Hug your children, spend the day with family, call an old friend, plant a tree in tribute, light a candle, share your thoughts, volunteer your time, take a moment for yourself, be there for someone else, watch the sunset, look forward to sunrise."
Tonight, Daddy and I did just that with you - on your second Patriot Day (the name given to 9/11 by President George W. Bush when he declared it a national holiday). We hugged you (like we do every day, several times a day), we spent time together, we walked up to the park together (you basically ran - and mostly anywhere but on the sidewalk), we enjoyed the sunset, and we played hard. You are such a happy boy, and I hope you will always live your life with as much passion, humor, joy, silliness, adventure, and love as you did today!
Love,
Mommy
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| Our own Star Spangled Banner at our house |
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