Where were you? That's the question that people ask whenever some sort of national tragedy happens. It was the question everyone is asked about the day President John Kennedy was shot. It was the question that was asked when Challenger exploded a little over two minutes into it's journey to space. It was the question asked the day of the Oklahoma City bombing. It seems every generation has one of those days where such a profound and intense tragedy happens which causes people to remember always where they were and what they were doing when it happened. For myself and many, many others this day for me was September 11th, 2001. It is a day that, as in the words of FDR after Pearl Harbor, will live in infamy. Those images of that bright, clear fall morning suddenly filled with unthinkable destruction, unimaginable pain, and inconceivable pictures of planes being flown into the World Trade Center, our Pentagon missing a large chunk after being hit with a jetliner and the flames being so large and engulfing-raging out of control. I still remember seeing the sheer panic and fear on everybody's faces as nobody could quite comprehend what was going on but yet was so terrified of what the next target would be and who else was going to be under attack. I was a senior in high school and was in first period Spanish when we started to talk about a plane crashing into the World Trade Center and thinking nothing too terrible. Just that it was odd. And then word quickly spread that another plane had hit the second tower. And within minutes, we all just knew that this was no ordinary-albeit strange-accident. We just had this sickening feeling that it was more. And as I made a phone call home to my sister who was watching all the carnage and chaos live on television and she was telling me exactly what was going on, I knew that our country, our own people were under attack. By whom? I did not know. But I knew that our entire country was a target and since we live within thirty miles of a Naval Warfare base that makes all sorts of missiles and weapons for the Navy, my first thought was Oh my Goodness, what if that's their next target? Not knowing anything about the who or the why, it made the events of that day even more terrifying. To see somebody hate us so much that they used our own planes filled with our own people to destroy our own buildings was an idea that coul have never been dreamed up for any Hollywood movie. That there is that type of evil in the world just made my stomach hurt. And as I went to US History that morning, the television was on CNN and we spent the entire hour watching. It was utter and complete silence in that classroom. Twenty 17 and 18 year olds sitting in a classroom watching as their fellow countrymen and women were scrambling around, running, screaming with looks of extreme terror and pain. And we watched as people, rather than being burned alive, decided to jump off the building from 80+ stories up. There was no chance they'd survive that fall and yet they believed that was the better option. How horrible is that? To make the choice to jump to your certain death rather than stay inside an intense inferno? I can't even imagine that circumstance. It still makes me cry and it makes me bleed to my soul to know the unimaginable agony the last few minutes of these people's lives had to have been like. It's hard to remember that. It is. It's also hard to remember seeing that building collapse. Watching that tower crumble like a cracker was devastating beyond words. I remember being in the class and watching that and being able to hear nothing but gasps and sighs of shock, disgust, disbelief and anger. I remember feeling so angry, so sad, so afraid and so distraught all at once. It was an intense mix of emotions and the more I saw the footage of the absolute devastation in the streets of NYC and at the Pentagon, the more those emotions were churning inside of me. I also remember going to lunch that day and not having any appetite at all. I skipped lunch and went to the library to get on the internet to try and find out more details. To try and see what was happening because it felt as if I was physically in Indiana in a school house, but mentally, emotionally and spiritually I was right there along side of so many other Americans living this nightmare. It was a day that I can remember all my movements, all my thoughts, all my feelings which is significant because if you asked me what I did last week or how I felt yesterday, I probably couldn't tell you. I don't remember. But ask me where I was, what I was doing, how I was feeling, ask me to account for every second of that day in September ten years ago and I can. I can recall every waking second. I can recall every last detail vividly. I can't forget. I won't forget. I don't want to forget because as hard as the truth is of that day,the fact is I remember to honor those who were lost. I don't want to forget because to forget means we forget the first responders-the ones who were running into the burning and raging inferno to help while everyone else was running out of it or away from it. I don't want to forget the heroes on Flight 93 who sacrificed everything to try and take back the control the terrorists had first taken from them. They died doing it their way. I am not saying they wanted to die but they made a choice in that moment they chose to take over the plane and knew that if it didn't work, they'd be dead and yet they did it anyway, refusing to just sit back and let the terrorists win by doing what they wanted. It was not going to end the way the terrorists wanted. And those passengers made the choice. I often find myself asking if I was faced with that same difficult,seemingly impossible situation, would I do the same thing? Would I sacrifice my life and try and do the right thing? I don't know the answer but I do know that I am inspired by those heroes on a daily basis. What they did and the heroism they displayed is such an amazingly beautiful thing. They are true heroes in every sense of the word and the courage, bravery and strength they showed to the rest of the world brings hope, inspiration and encouragement to those of us left behind. And that is why I want to remember. I want to remember all the faces and the names of the lives that were taken that day. Not because they weren't lost too soon or because their lives were taken in the most heinous, brutal way imaginable but because their lives mattered. They lived and loved and laughed and inspired and led and fought and bled and they died simply because they went to work that day or because they were flying home to see their families or going to work somewhere else. They were humans and they were doing what they did best: living. That's why the best way I can think of to honor them and their memories is by living, by laughing, by loving, by promoting peace and trying to encourage, inspire and promote peace. That's the way they lived.That's the way you and I will live. Because they may be gone from this earth physically, but yet their spirits and souls remain and surround us. They help us keep living and keep going, even when it's tough. And though I will never know what the surviving famiy and friends feel, I will forever stand by them and with them on this day and all days. I will shed tears for them and their struggles. I will laugh with them when they feel joy. I will walk them in the darkest places so that they don't feel so alone and so surrounded by grief and pain. I share in their sorrow and I offer them solace by praying for them, by sending them positive energy and thoughts and by doing my part in sharing and by simply living. I know it may not seem like much but it can be the simplest, smallest gesture that can make the most difference to someone who is in tremendous pain. And that's the best way to honor those who died on that day. By living. By giving. By being better. By going out and spreading hope, love and peace and not hate or anger. So that's what I do. I don't want to forget, even if I could. Because then I would forget all those people who died so young, so innocently, so senselessly and so brutally. I believe that I owe them that. And going back to the day it happened, I remember feeling so helpless towards any of the victims' families or any of the survivors who lived through the ordeal. I felt like I wanted to help but didn't know how. And so I went down to the Red Cross and donated blood. I didn't know how that would help or if it would help but I just had to do something. It was the only thing I could do. And as I remember the days and weeks following the total chaos of that Tuesday morning, I remember the way everyone in this country united. How we all became stronger and how this nation did NOT fold and did NOT implode but raised up together as one entity and stood up against the hatred and the violence of those involved and refused to let them win. They wanted to take away our passion and our livelihood. They wanted to divide and destroy us, instead we came together and helped each other out. I remember how awesome it was to see the unity and the togetherness we had in the months following the attacks. Now, ten years later, I can say that I don't see that same type of unity and togetherness. I don't see us throwing aside all labels, all judgments, all notions, all political parties and just uniting as one large entity who look to each other as fellow Americans rather than as a liberal or conservative or Christian or atheist or gay or straight. That day and the days following it were an appalling and terrible tragedy but it brought out the very best in us. The most evil and destructive forces that we have ever seen tried to ruin us and we did the exact opposite. We thrived. We overcame. We united. But somewhere along the way in the past ten years, we have lost that unity. We don't have that same passionate spirit because we look too much at our differences and begrudge each other for them rather than embrace those differences and realize that that is what makes this country great. The diversity of this nation is something to be celebrated and revered, not condemned and mocked which is what seems to be the trend these days. Do we really want to honor our fallen heroes in this way? Do we really want to ignore the lessons they taught us that day by paying the ultimate price with their lives? The heroes of that day were as diverse as they come and yet when the time and situation called on them to come together as one and to forget about the differences between them, they stood up as Americans-and as human beings-to fight against the terrorism and the hate. That's what we need to remember today as we think back on September 11, 2001. Let's not just remember the anger and the sadness and the chaos and the destruction, but let's also remember the unity that was created. Let's remember that in one of the biggest atrocities to ever face a nation, we didn't let hatred and evil win out. We united together to stand firm in our belief in each other and in our love for one another. Let's not let the evil and hate win out a decade later. Let's get back to that type of unity and togetherness. That's what we need to remember. That's what we need to do to honor the 3,000 men, women and children lost that day. And today, ten years later, that's my hope and my prayer. Let us not only remember the victims and their families, but also let's remember how united and how together we were. United we stand was the slogan that was started in the aftermath of this tragedy. Let's get back to that. As I look back on what I remember and what I felt in the days, weeks, and months afterwards the biggest memory I have is of everybody standing around waving the American flag singing God Bless America or My Country Tis of Thee or The Star Spangled Banner and standing arm in arm with the person next to them. It was the beautiful part of all the ugly, it was the light in all of the darkness and it was the joy in all of the sorrow. I want us to all stand united once more and break out into a chorus of America the Beautiful. Are you with me? Can we get back to that place? I don't know this but I firmly believe with all my soul that that is what each and every person who died on that day would want as well. September 11,2001 is a day that is etched in all of our minds forever and that has stained our hearts permanently. Let's not let it make us bitter, let it make us better.
God Bless America. God Bless each and every one of you!
Blessings
Mel
