I had just started going to school at the local community college. I hated high school and I was smart, so I was given the option to do my senior year at college.
That morning, I got up and went to my 8am Economics class, with the African professor whose accent was so thick I couldn't understand most of what he said.
I walked across campus to my gym class, weightlifting. The teacher told us that she knew some of us were upset about the accident that had happened in the city, so we could skip class and not get penalized.
I had no idea what was going on. The radio was on and I heard bits and pieces, but all I gathered was that a plane crashed somewhere in the city.
When I got home after class for my break, I turned on the TV, just in time to see the first tower collapse. I stayed glued to the TV for the rest of the day, horrified.
People's parents worked near there. I live in the suburbs, but Manhattan is only 20 miles from my house. I knew tons of kids whose parents were New York City firefighters, or stockbrokers, or myriad other occupations which put them in the vicinity of the tragedy.
I was in shock. I called my parents at their schools to talk to them. I didn't go back to school that day for my afternoon classes. All I could do was watch the news.
Thankfully, no one in my family or my friends' families were injured or killed that day. But so many were, and so many people in my town, and at my school, were suffering from losses. The tragedy impacted everyone so heavily, and continues to do so still.
Now, on the tenth anniversary, the news is airing all the footage from that day. I refuse to watch it. I saw it once, and, as far as I'm concerned, there is no need to open the floodgates of feelings that day by re-airing it. And honestly, my kids are too young to see that, and way to young to understand it.
I can remember without the footage. All I have to do is look at the skyline. It's forever changed. And just because I won't watch anything about it doesn't mean I don't care. I will remember in my own way.
9/11 really affected me and made me grow up a lot. I was 17, and it was one of the first times something so big had an impact on my life. I realized the world was bigger than me. I cried for all those who were trapped in those buildings and their families, who suffered at their loss. I remember all the brave volunteers, firemen, and policemen who stepped up to the plate to help. I know many of them are suffering now because they decided to help.
I'm also proud my city and the country moved on. Everyone showed they were so strong and could still function and survive in the face of adversity. I will always fondly remember the Incubus concert my dad and I attended in the city 3 days later. The people who were there, and who were going about their business in the city at all reminded me just how resilient we New Yorkers are.
I will always remember the Twin Towers and the people who lost their lives on 9/11. I will always remember those who selflessly helped. I refuse to live in fear of another terrorist attack. I will always remember how strong New Yorkers are, and how the entire country banded together in the face of adversity. God bless America, and all those who were affected by 9/11. My thoughts and prayers are with you all.
This post is linked to MommyNaniBooBoo and A Dollop of My Life
