10 years ago...

I was a senior in high school, and my Dad was driving me to school. I was about a week away from taking my driver test. My Dad was about to turn the corner to drop me off when I got a call on my cell phone from my mom who was already at work.

"I want to make sure you're alright" she said.

"I'm fine, why?" I replied.

"Did you watch the news this morning at all?" she asked.

"No, I didn't have a chance to, why?" I asked back.

"A plane has crashed into the World Trade Center in New York."

"Oh, no I haven't heard anything, but I'm OK" I said.

"OK, well if you need anything, I'm here so give me a call. I love you" she said.

"I love you too Mom, I'll talk to you later."

I got onto campus, and a different energy than usual permeated the air. Something was horribly wrong, and I could feel it. I walked to a familiar hang out and a classmate was on the phone with his Dad, talking about what happened. "They think San Francisco is next" he told me. WHAT? What was going on? I got into my class early; I was a teacher's aide for the Photography class. He had the news going and that was the moment I first saw them. Both towers were standing tall above the New York skyline, dark smoke billowing from the tops like huge chimneys. I didn't understand, who would do this? America, my country that I am so in love with, was being attacked.

The class milled in slowly as the TV still played. That day, there was no going onto campus to work on projects, no students in the dark room to process images. The teacher made no demands to do any work. We all just sat together and watched. Towards the middle of class, the first tower fell. Shortly after, the second tower fell. My mouth dropped to the floor as I saw the buildings disappear into a massive cloud of dust, ash and death below. It was gone.

The teacher muted the TV and said "Class, I need your attention for a moment." We all turned his way to hear what he had to say.

"I don't know if you realize this, but we now live in a world where the World Trade Center no longer exists." Then it hit me.

I'd always had this idealistic view of my country. We were the beloved ones who did no wrong. No one could hate us so much to hurt us in such a way as that day. The rose colored glasses were ripped off my face. People hated us, somw so much to hurt us. The only reason the people did this the way they did is to just kill. Kill as many people as possible at one time to make a statement. Well, the statement was made. Point taken.

I didn't know how to react. I was just numb. I hadn't seen the planes go into the buildings, just the buildings themselves on fire and imploding. Through the rest of the day, there was no classwork, no lectures, no notes taken. It was all of us glued to the TVs, in disbelief that what had happened, happened. Then the end of my classes had come and my Dad was waiting to pick me up. As I sat in his truck on the ride home, I just stared into space. We stopped at the grocery store, and as I got out to follow him in, the tears came. They didn't stop. All my Dad could do was hold me in the parking lot of a grocery store. He said "I know. I know. I'm angry too."

That night my parents and I watched the news together and I got to see the planes go into the buildings for the first time. There were different angles of the impacts taken by different people. The one that hit me the most was a view from below of the 2nd plane. You could see the windows on the airliner plane. It hit me again. There were people on those planes who could see their deaths in front of them. I could imagine them praying, screaming, crying, holding each other. I could see them calling their loved ones to tell them they loved them one last time. It hit me again, and I cried uncontrollably. Our country was attacked, and it's innocent citizens were mass casualties of war.

Also during that day, I have a cousin who lives in New Jersey, but was working in Manhattan at the time. Her parents as well as the rest of the family were trying desperately to get a hold of her to make sure she was OK. She called us to let us know she was fine and had to take a ferry from Manhattan to New Jersey, and walk home to Hoboken. The whole journey took her about 7 hours if I remember correctly, but she saw everything happen from the roof of her office.

10 years later, the images still haunt me. I sometimes YouTube the videos to remind myself that what happened was real. Now I'm 27, married, have a 5 month old daughter and 3 cats. I had always wanted to go pay my respects in New York and visit Ground Zero. I feel I need to, still. I feel I need to go there to tell those that died that even though I wasn't there physically that day, that I think about them.

9/11/2001 - I will never forget.