This month we mark the 9 year anniversary of the 9/11 attack on the World Trade Centre or what was once referred to as the “Twin Towers” Every year I find myself re-watching the video’s and different documentaries, sometimes newer ones, some repeats in hopes that one day I’ll understand entirely why it happened. I personally will never fully grasp the hate that was behind it all, what is inspiring and uplifting in a situation that is devastating and will never be forgotten is the comradery of citizens across the country and the world.It was a tragic day in America, with the Two towers and the Pentagon being hit; and thanks to heroic passengers and crew in a fourth plane tried to regain control, crashed their plane into a field near Shanksville in rural Pennsylvania, there were no survivors on any of the flights.
I wish I could put into words or actions the Biggest Thank you I could ever give, to all those lost in trying to save the lives of others and give an equally as big thank you to the survivors as well, but I can’t.
I think everyone who experienced 9/11 can recall where they were when it happened, and that day will be a day we never forget. That morning my dad made his usual routine of coming to our rooms and waking us up to get ready for school, that day seemed a little different, for some reason, Dad was waking us up much earlier than usual, and I could hear Mum screaming from her bedroom at the television. Seconds later my dad informed me the First tower had been hit. At 12 years old I knew nothing about the buildings, I just knew that whatever happened wasn’t good. My family gathered around the television set that morning and watched, eyes glued to the television to see or hear what was going to happen next. Initially I thought that it was just a freak accident, maybe a pilot suffered a heart attack, maybe the plane malfunctioned, I was entirely ignorant to even comprehend it was a terrorist attack. Mum and Dad continued to say ” Maybe’s” or “I don’t knows” to each of my “what ifs” until the we watched at the Second plane hit Tower 2. No longer were we thinking that it was “Just an accident” it was a planned attack, and now we waited to find out who did it…
I went to school that day and my teacher was completely distraught, he wasn’t a man of many words, but when he spoke he was very educated, poised and was respected among us kids in his grade 8 class. That day when he spoke his voice was shakey, just like my parents voices had been that morning too, I knew the incident was bad, but why were all the adults around me so upset? I was ignorant. First tower collapsed, then the second my 12 year old little mind didn’t understand that people were still inside the buildings when they collapsed, i honestly thought they were all out, and that after the towers collapsed, NYC just had a lot of mess to clean up. That day we listened to the radio, to try to get more information, and talks of the pentagon being hit were now being discussed. I didn’t know what the Pentagon was either.
A few years later we took a trip to NYC and of course wanted to go to Ground Zero. While looking at the area that was once occupied by two of the tallest buildings in the world, there was nothing left but random concrete staircase with about 7 steps that lead to no where with still a ton lots of rocks and rubble. Across the street there was a little church St. Paul’s Tiny Church, we entered the church which was now more of a memorial site than a house of God, and learned that when the buildings collapsed, the church remained unscathed. Neighboring buildings for blocks that surrounded the Towers had windows blown out structural damage done to them, but this Little church, Literally 20 feet away from the front entrance didn’t have a single bit of damage done.
As we walked around the pews there were little stations set up of clothing, shoes, pictures, firemen badges or hats, along with police badges too, the one thing that hit me the hardest was seeing the posters that dawned the words “Have you seen” or ” Missing.” Posters that had Mums, Dads, Brothers, Sisters, Aunts, and Uncles, pictures of a firefighter with his kids, or a young newly wed couple with one of them missing. I couldn’t imagine losing one person, let alone two or more, as unfortunate as it was there were families who lost more than one family member, after reading several of the posters you could read the pain and absolute desperation in the written or typed out letters of Hope.
Even through talking to people, watching the documentaries, reading books, I still fear I haven’t read enough to know enough. Is this an obsession for me? No. But every year when September comes along it’s a month of reminiscing and educating. I believe it stems from my lack of understanding when I was younger.
Thanks for reading, I ask you to share your story, comments, or whatever you like.
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