“Nine-eleven was a beautiful day. Everybody remembers it was a beautiful day.” Sounds like an oxymoron with images of death engraved in our memory when we hear the words ‘nine-eleven’. Even so, it was a beautiful day. The sun was out all day, not a cloud in the sky – neither too hot nor too cold. It was a day God gave to us that many would deem as perfection.
It was a Tuesday, the first Tuesday of my 7th grade year in fact. I was sitting in first period math class, Algebra 1 with Mrs. McKinney. Someone came to the room and handed her a pinkish red post-it note, from which she read to the class that the north tower of the World Trade Center was struck by a plane. We continued the day as usual. The next class was science class with Mr. Eimer. During this period he told us that the south tower was hit, and the possibility of terrorism was discussed. Even in Philadelphia, students in my class started having panic attacks. The Philadelphia school system shut down and sent students back home. So, our school closed too, and I went back home with my oldest brother, who had driven to school that day. I turned on the TV and watched. Went to the bathroom very briefly and in that short period of time the south tower fell. I don’t know why, but that’s when it became surreal to me…such huge, massive, strong buildings collapsing in mere seconds and the fate of thousands forever changed. As I watched the events unfold that morning I remember the immediate terrorist suspects were Osama Bin Laden and possibly Saddam Hussein.
Almost exactly the year before, my 6th grade class visited Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty. It was my first ever visit to the Big Apple, even though we didn’t really go into the city, Manhattan. That was my only glimpse of the World Trade Center with my own eyes. It was a dark and cloudy day, but I remember those huge towers looming over the enourmous metropolis, seen from the crown. It feels like yesterday that I was in New York purchasing my Statue of Liberty and NYC shot glasses. It feels like yesterday that I sat at home and watched the events unfold. It feels like yesterday that I watched the uncensored memorial specials on TV the next year…and the year after……and the year after…
…ten years later and I still can’t help but watch the 9/11 specials. I don’t know anyone who was directly involved that day, nor do I know anyone who knew anyone involved that day. Though, the father of a classmate of mine was high up in his fire department and he was called to New York to help with the clearing of the remains. Still, it never gets easier to watch, if anything it gets harder. I can’t watch without tears anymore, and I can now more fully appreciate the emotions people went through. I just finished watching Voices from Inside the Towers on the History channel where phone calls made from within the towers are documented. Calls from men, women, fathers, wives, husbands… I don’t have kids, and I’m not married, but I do have a girlfriend, and we are talking about marriage, and about kids – and putting myself in the shoes of the callers from inside the towers makes the events of that day very real.
Many of the calls highlighted were delivered with courage and boldness, without great indication of fear. The quote I started with came from an old woman, mother of a man who died that day. Sad as she was to go through that day and lose her son, she kept her head up. Her son Stephen died at the age of 33. She did not lament at the rest of his life being torn from him, but instead rejoiced at the 33 years of life he gave to her large family… “And now we have a feast to go back to – a feast of memories.”
There was one man, however, that emergency phone operators dubbed as ‘the voice of the towers’. Though not hysterical, he brought the reality of the situation inside the towers to the operators. “I have kids…I’m a husband…we’re young men…we’re not ready to die.” His wife was interviewed and she wanted to leave us with the words to make the most of your life, to spend quality time with the ones you love, because life is short and you never know when it will end. And I couldn’t agree more. I don’t claim to have found the balance between work and friends, but I see too many people buried in their work, schoolwork, etc., and not devoting enough time to fellowship. Work is great, and we should do it, but we were also made as creatures of fellowship. And that doesn’t mean partying all the time, it means getting to truly know people, caring about and loving them, times of laughter and times of conversation or simply silence, lasting bonds where you can find and give support. And let me tell you, this cannot be developed from a monthly cup of coffee scheduled between your overbooked life.
Today I was able to join in a pre-game ceremony at Pitt’s football game honoring the military. The Army, Navy, and Air Force ROTCs in Pittsburgh marched onto the field and presented salutes during the national anthem. I was proud to wear my Air Force blues, to receive the applause of the stadium, and to remember what our country fights for. Freedom. Approve, disapprove, cry ‘foul’ at possible ulterior motives for missions, wear yellow ribbons on your cars, doesn’t matter. Bottom line, we fight for freedom.
Currently, it is 10 September 2011. Tomorrow is Sunday. Fitting. In God We Trust.
