Ten years later. It seems like only yesterday those inhuman attacks occurred and I can still remember everything so vividly and clear. I was awoken by a frantic telephone call from my Mom at 630am. "New York is under attack!", she was screaming. Being half-asleep, I thought that this must be some weird nightmare. "Turn on the TV! It's all over the news!", she insisted. I shot out of bed and fumbled for the remote. My heart immediately sank as the warm glow of the television displayed the images of tragedy. Moments later, before my very eyes and of millions across the world, the first tower fell. For days and weeks afterwards, I was glued to watching all the major news channels in hopes that any survivors might be found. Praying and pleading, but with each passing day without positive news, I felt as if all hope was gone.
For weeks, I would stay awake until the early morning hours and those were some of the loneliest times I had ever felt. I've never been the type to display emotion, but the heartbreak would swell up all at once and I would find myself in tears. Even as I type this piece now, I do so misty-eyed. I felt rage, sadness and pain at the same time. Raised in a Connecticut suburb, Manhattan was only an hour train ride away. I felt as if someone had come into my backyard and committed this atrocity. I had dinner at the Window of the World with loved ones. I had walked around on the observation deck of the south tower and I cherish having videotaped that moment. The towers were the first landmark I would see flying back into New York. They were a reassuring comfort that let me know I was back home. It still feels a bit surreal, flying back into New York post-9/11. The skyline I had know my entire life has been forever destroyed. For me, the World Trade Center weren't just a set of buildings or an architectural marvel. The were a symbol that embodied a city.
In the wake of tragedy, I saw the best that the human spirit had to offer. I was overwhelmed with love and pride for the brave men and women of the New York Fire Department, the New York Police Department and the New York Port Authority. For those whom raced into the face of danger when the planes struck. For those that made the ultimate sacrifice and gave their lives, so others could survive. For the volunteers that tirelessly remained for weeks afterwards, in search of possible survivors. For every individual that gave blood, shelter and supplies. For the courageous men and women that have served abroad and continue to do so today. For every single American that stood united in the aftermath of unspeakable horror. Though severely wounded, we demonstrated that the American spirit would not be broken. Regardless of geographic location, or citizenship status, or race, or religion or political party, we all stood tall. We all felt love and compassion. We all had the pride of the red, white and blue in our veins. We were all Americans. We were all New Yorkers.
While we may not all agree on the reasons as to why we're there, during today's remembrances and tributes, let us not forget and appreciate the sacrifices being made by the brave men and women that continuously put their lives in danger by serving this great land of hours. The heinous acts of September 11th, 2001 have forever altered the way we live our lives. Ten years ago, we didn't know about terror alert levels or have to take our shoes off at the airport. Ten years ago, we would've never thought that anything like this could happen on American soil. Ten years ago, evil did not have a name or a face. This year may have brought a long-sought form of closure with the assassination of the monster that masterminded the attacks, but it will never compensate for the innocence and lives lost. The best way to honor those that died on September 11th, 2001, is to live your life with the love and conviction you had on September 12th, 2001. I will never be the same after the events of that day and I will never forget.
