9/11

Six years ago today, I was sleeping in at my apartment in Ames, IA. I didn't have classes until late morning that day, so took full advantage of that, as most college students do. Greg (my now husband, then fiance) had gone to work that morning and called me on my cell phone. He said, very seriously, "Get up and go turn on the TV. A plane has hit the World Trade Center in NYC."

"What?" I questioned, Surely he couldn't be right. Then I said, "How could an accident like that happen?" By this time I had fumbled around and got the TV on. It was all live shots of NYC with scrolling words at the bottom. He responded, "They don't know if it's an accident or something else." Not long after my old TV had finally warmed up to reveal the footage, the second plane hit the tower. It was then that my heart sank and my stomach dropped. It my heart of hearts, I knew that this couldn't be an accident. But I still kept hoping that it was...that perhaps something had gone wonky at the control tower, or something wasn't right on the navigation system. But deep inside, I knew. I sat glued to the TV most of the morning, breaking only to jump online and see if classes had been cancelled.

They never did get cancelled, and so I went. The one class I had that day had a very strict no-skip policy, and when I got there we only spent the first 10 minutes or so discussing the attacks. By the time I had left the apartment for that class, very little was yet known, so most of our discussion was based on speculation. None of us yet realized the enormity of the situation. How else could we have sat there and discussed the finer points of fluid mechanics if we did know? Once class was over, I headed home and stayed glued to my TV the rest of day. As the day went on, more details and images became available.

My mom called me to let me know that her work (in Omaha) had let them out early and she was at home safe. She also told me that my grandma, who was on a tourbus on the East Coast got stuck in Canada. They were scheduled to cross back into the US that day to go to NY. Needless to say that didn't happen. She was fine, but shook up. My mom called again later that day to check in again, and we talked about President Bush coming to Omaha because that's where SAC (Strategic Air Command) is. Greg watched from work for awhile then came home early. I greeted him at the door with a huge hug.

I think I remained glued to the tube most of the next three days, breaking only for class. I know I didn't cry those first few days, I know I didn't believe it those first few days. How could someone intentionally do that to innocent people?

Nearly 2 years ago, Greg and I had the honor of visiting both the WTC site and the WTC Memorial in Battery Park. I still get goosebumps when I think of those experiences: the relatively unscathed, salvaged sculpture; the eternal flame symbolizing the thoughts of all of those old enough to remember, "We will not forget!"; the surrounding buildings still missing glass nearly four years later; the still huge hole in the ground and the still huge holes in our hearts. It was during this visit, that it finally hit home to me. I cried. Hard. The reality of the situation, the braveness of those fallen heros, the sadness for the victims families, the thankfulness for those who fight to defend our every freedom...it all finally hit, harder than it ever had.

So this September 11, I salute those who keep us safe each and everyday, I send prayers and hugs to the families of the victims, I send up prayers for the victims, and I thank each and every person in my life for bringing light to my life. Life is to short to not appreciate what we have each been given.