September 11th is not only the day that the World Trade Center Tragedy happened, but my mother in laws birthday. I meant to write this entry yesterday to commemorate the day, but there was a birthday cake catastrophe (more on that to come). I had really wanted to take a minute to talk about September 11th, 2001, in memory of its 10th anniversary. If figured it wouldn’t really matter if I was a day late or not.
In September of 2001 my life was so incredibly different. I was 19 and in my Sophomore year of college. I had met, but not yet started dating Hubs (we started dating in November). In all honesty , I was still a kid.
On that fateful morning of September 11th I went about my morning as I normally did. I woke up and got ready for my first class. I took most of my classes in the morning cause I liked being out in the afternoon, but my roommates were the exact opposite so I was usually the first one up in the apartment. Once I got to class, my friend Charles told me that a plane had flown into the World Trade Center building in New York City. I remember asking him if anyone had died. It seems like such a silly question when I think back, but I couldn’t fathom that it was a jumbo jet. I was thinking that he meant that a little single engine, one manned, plane flew into the building. When he explained it to me I was dumbstruck. I couldn’t even believe how something so awful could happen. The professor came into the room and explained the situation and that a second plane had flown into the building and that class was dismissed. I remember being terrified. I had so many questions and so many thoughts flowing through my head. How could something like this happen? Who would do this? I couldn’t stop thinking about all of those poor innocent people on the plane and in the building. What must have the people on the plane have been thinking when they realized that they were in the last few minutes of their lives? To this day, I'm still extremely upset when I think about how those people on the planes must have felt to have their lives unwilling riped from them.
I remember being so worried about what all of this meant. Someone hated us enough to fly two huge planes full of innocent people into one of our biggest office buildings, another plane into the head office of our military, and to crash another one meant for who knows where (was it the white house?). But, what did all that hatred mean? Were we going to go to war? Who would we go to war with?? I remember one of my biggest worries that day was that the president would reinstate the draft and that my brother would enlist and be sent to fight this unnamed murderer. Looking back and remembering I see how much of a jumble my thoughts were that day. Nothing really bad had ever really happened in my life until that point. Operation Desert Storm was the closest to anything bad that I had ever experienced, and that only lasted 90 days.
Terrorism is a way to wage war on someone else without giving them the dignity or respect of letting them know about it first. I just don’t understand it, especially in this situation. I believe in God, and cannot imagine a scenario where he would look favorably killing so many people.
On September 11th, this year and every other I think about the senselessness of all the anger and violence in this world. I remember all of those people, on all three planes, and in the Pentagon and World Trade buildings that got caught in a fight that they had no part of. I think about those pilots and hope (forgive me for saying this) that they are suffering for what they have done.
This year especially, I think about how I want to raise my daughter to be tolerant and loving. And how I hope she never has to see something like this happen in her lifetime.
On September 11th, 2001, I thought the world was ending, and in a way it did. The world will never again be like it was on September 10th. I'll never forget and I don’t know how anyone ever could.
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