Where I Was on 9/11

Warning: the following post contains descriptions of disturbing imagery related to 9/11.


I woke up that Tuesday morning, preparing for an ordinary, boring day (I even thought this as sleepiness evaporated). I was only 14 and still homeschooled. To ease myself out of drowsiness, I turned on the TV. With the exception of the Weather Channel and Nickelodeon, all of the channels were focused on smoke pouring from an island. I had no idea what was going on, other than there was a fire. The news trickled in: a plane had hit one of the World Trade Center towers. Appeared to be an accident. Still horrifying, though.

Just as this was digesting in my mind, breaking news: a second plane hit the other tower. What appeared to be a freak accident was actually deliberate. There was no way it couldn't have been. I started to get really scared, thinking of all those people still in the buildings, trying to escape. At this time, my mom was up. I related her the news. In no time, we were both watching the same coverage in different rooms.

As more news came in about the planes, I saw an image that continues to haunt me to this day: a person jumping from one of the towers. The camera followed hir down. While it was too far to see the impact, knowing the inevitability of it was still disturbing. I don't know who this person was, but watching them dying... is beyond description.

Just as we were reeling from the news about the World Trade Center, news broke again: the Pentagon was struck by another plane. Even though we were already emotionally distraught, we had yet to cry or panic. But at that particular news, my mom started to. I asked her what was wrong. She then said, "Lindsey, your father's in D.C." To abridge this aspect: my dad works as a civilian engineer for the government and he often travels to various military bases with a team of people. He happened to be in Arlington, Virginia at this time. (When my dad returned, he would tell us that he was in the hotel when it happened. He saw the smoke pouring into the skies from his vantage point.)

Since phone lines were going into overdrive, it was impossible to get in touch with my dad. We wouldn't hear from them until about an hour later. The secretary at my dad's office called the families of all the team members to report that they were okay. We were relieved, but it was short-lived. That is when the towers began to collapse.

Watching the people run from the clouds of ash and dust was surreal, it was like a scene out of a thriller movie. This is when I broke down and started to cry, only thinking "there are people still in there".

Rumors of a fourth plane proved true as one crashed in Pennsylvania, whispers of its target being the White House. After that, the second tower collapsed. By then, watching everything from almost start to finish had gotten too much. I started to watch Dora the Explorer, anything to get away from the horrific images. But it was too late, they were forever sealed in my mind. I broke away from the TV to wake my little sister up and tell her what happened. She thought I was joking. The World Trade Center towers were her favorite buildings, she dreamed of seeing them one day. But when she saw the news coverage, she believed it.

Needless to say, we didn't do schoolwork that day. Or for the rest of the week.

When the day ended, more information about the terrorists came in, about their religious beliefs and countries of origin. I remember thinking, "Oh man, I can see people taking this information and think everyone from the Middle East and/or followers of Islam are involved in terrorism."

And sure enough, the next day, a local Muslim-American woman (she said she was from the Middle East, but I forgot where exactly) was interviewed, talking about how her business was vandalized by angry residents. And sadly, America's racism and prejudice against followers of Islam and natives/residents of the Middle Eastern region would only continue.

Because of the massive closure of airports, my dad and his team didn't arrive home until Friday. They drove all the way from D.C. When he arrived, there was a sense of relief that we were all together. But not everyone could say the same thing.

Thus, my memory of those times fade here.

~

September 11th, 2001 was the day that time literally stopped. Everyone dropped what they were doing to either help those in need or mourn. No planes flew, no trains left stations. The whole world got word and stopped.

When time began ticking again, we all moved slow, with the pace of uncertainty. Can we go on? What do we do now? And here we are, ten years later. A significant milestone, a decade of reeling and questions. Of war, justice, and confusion. Of tragedy, sadness, and the inklings of hope. We have come a long way and we have much more to go. We have remnants of the tragedy of September 11th to deal with. This is something we can't recover from overnight, or even in a decade. Families and loved ones were torn apart while firefighters, police officers, and paramedics died by the hundreds to save lives.

There are questions needing answers. Can we have national safety without it costing our liberties? Why is our anger not directed at the terrorist groups but at Islam and its followers? There are so many more, and with no answers in sight, I grow concerned.

Will we ever forget? No and we shouldn't. Even if you were not affected directly by the events of 9/11, take the time to think of those who were. Let us work and hope for love, protection, and good fortune for all.

~

An old classmate of mine also wrote about today. This inspired me to add my memories about the Muslim-American woman.