Remember

This post was written on the fifth anniversary of 9/11. Another three years have passed since the day I wrote this post, and still I find myself incapable of shaking the fog that envelopes my mind and my heart every year on this day. I remember last year, an incredible post written by Meg from A Practical Wedding. This post. In a few simple sentences she stirred up so much emotion for me and ultimately, appreciation. Appreciation for life, for friends, for family, for not having lost someone that day, for all the years I lived in quiet innocence before our existence was forever changed. At any rate, here is my own September 11th story. It isn’t overly unique or dramatic, but in sharing it I know I’ll continue to remember and I believe we all owe it ourselves as individuals and as a nation to remember always the way we felt on that day and in the weeks that followed…

I ancticipate that for much of our generation, “where were you on September 11th?” will continue to be a question asked long into the future although perhaps not with great frequency. My 9/11 story isn’t all that spectacular but I will share it anyway…

On September 11, 2001 I had been a college student for a just a few short weeks and at the time the first plane hit I was making my daily commute to campus for a 9:00 class. I heard about the first plane hit on the radio during the drive. I was listening to a station where the DJs are notorious for playing elaborate jokes and weaving incredible hoaxes. I was pretty shocked as I listened to the DJs announce the plane hit and kind of dismissed it as a sick joke.

By the time I got to campus I had a sense that it probably wasn’t a joke because there were strange gatherings of people clustered here and there with heads bowed in deep discussion. As I entered the main building on campus there was a very uncomfortable buzz about the place that thickened as I entered the academic wing of the building where a lot of people were gathered before going into class. The door to the classroom I was expected to be in was locked and a group of my classmates sat outside. Many students at JCC are in the military or spouses of military servicemen because of my home town’s close proximity to a prominent military base in Upstate NY and therefore it wasn’t unusal that one of my classmates was there in unifrom. What was very unusual was that when he overheard my classmates discussing what had happened [apparently he hadn't heard yet] he got a look of panic in his eyes and quickly lifted his ruck onto his back. “Tell Professor Johnson I had to go!” he said as he took off in a run down the hall. I started after him until word started to spread through the building about the second plane hit and with it, all classes were cancelled for the day.

Making my way downstairs I met up with two of my close friends and we spent a couple of hours in the auditorium watching the live news coverage with much of the campus community. We then spent a good part of the day at one of my friend’s houses trying to come to terms with what was happening. We were young, only 18, and to us this was unfathomable. Later in the day we went to Friendly’s for dinner. We were trying to just keep moving forward and not become one of those people glued to the tv reliving over and over the occurances of that morning. When we walked into the place nearly the entire staff was in the dining room and the manager had brought a small 13″ television in and set it up at one of the booths so patrons could continue to watch the news coverage. I think that is when I truly realized that this was a huge deal, a lot bigger than anything I could have imagined. When I showed up to work later and found out we were closing for the night this knowledge was confirmed and I went home and spent the night quietly in front of the tv.

The aftermath of Septmeber 11th in my community was perhaps different than in most others. Fort Drum is one of the most prominent military bases in the nation. As soon as the terrorist attacks occured our community became very aware of what this meant. The base went on lockdown nearly immediately and surrounding the gates the presence of MPs was at a level I had never experienced. It wasn’t long before many of the area soldiers were deployed to Afghanistan and left behind frightened spouses, children and friends. Among those to go was the husband of a good friend I worked with. I spent a year watching her mourn September 11th and suffer the affects it had had on her life. As proud as she was of her husband, as happy as she was to have him alive, the idea of what might happen was never far from her mind as he missed their first Christmas together and eventually their first anniversary. All around us people were going through the same things where in other communities I believe people largely moved on. Now in Watertown there is a constant ebb and flow as soldiers continue to deploy and return from Afghanistan and Iraq. It’s always with us there. It’s there in the eyes of the children who have parents at war and in the grief of widows, widowers, friends and family as soldiers return home in flag-draped coffins. For those who say 9/11 is a thing of the past, I assure you, it is not.