Never Forget

I may be all the way out in rural Utah today and starting an internship, but there won't be a moment that goes by that I don't remember what day it is and what happened 11 years ago this morning. September 11th, 2001. I had just moved to New York City as a college freshman. Everything was still so new to me and I had yet to make close friends, since I'd only been there a couple weeks. I will never forget walking down the dorm hallway and seeing a bunch of my hallmates huddled around a tv. I was on my way to grab breakfast before class. What I saw when I stepped in to watch the tv with them was horrific, as we all know. It was hard to comprehend that what we were watching was transpiring in real time in our city.

Terrorism is the absolute right word for what happened on September 11th. I was terrified. There were rumors flying about how many planes there were and how much more of the city would be attacked. We were told to stay out of tall buildings and try to stay indoors due to the air quality. The entire city smelled of the attack. Back in my dorm, several of us were  coming together in one room to talk. We needed to keep each other calm. We needed to talk about what was happening, what we'd heard, who we knew was in the buildings, and who had miraculously not gone to work yet that day. It was a diverse group of young women, so we hugged each other and prayed in several different religions. We cried together.

I tried to get in touch with my family, but none of the phone or cell phone lines were working. I eventually was able to let my mother know I was okay using the computer. I wanted to get out. There was so much talk that the terrorism wasn't over yet, that it was going to last for days, that the city would be destroyed. I was glued to the tv, unable to move. I was watching people die. The city went on lock down. No one in. No one out. I was stuck in a city under attack. Military planes started flying by my bedroom window as all other planes were grounded. Seeing them was surreal. I had never lived through a war, but it felt like I was living through one that day. I wished I lived in a shorter building. I wished to be small, to be anywhere else but Manhattan.

As it became clear that further attacks were unlikely over the next few days, I went straight to the Red Cross to volunteer in any way I could. It was a beautiful thing to see New Yorkers come together and hold each other up. Everyone volunteered however they could. If they were chefs, they prepared food for volunteers. If they were massage therapists, they gave neck massages to weary workers. Everyone wanted to help. New York never felt like a stronger community than it did following 9/11.

Slowly, things returned to "normal." Classes resumed. Other topics became the subject of conversations. People returned to work. But nothing would ever really be normal again. My internship at a radio station had to be cancelled for a few days due to an anthrax scare in the building. Everyone was on edge. To this day, I hate when planes are flying too low to the ground, especially near a city. To this day, I cannot watch coverage of 9/11. To this day, I remember the stories, the fears, the sights and smells, the lockdown, the terror. To this day, I still cry when something triggers a memory of that day.

I lived in New York City for four more years and I loved it. It's one of the greatest cities in the world and I miss it a lot. Dear New York City, you will always be in my heart. You will always be one of my many hometowns. You will always have my respect. I can't wait to come back and visit.

And to everyone who lived through that day in Manhattan, to all those who died, those who lost family or friends, those who saw things that can't be unseen, those who bravely ran towards the disaster instead of away from it to save lives, and those who were affected around the world by  that time of tragedy, I hope you are able to feel some peace in your hearts.

Never Forget.