A Day to Remember

A high school friend of mine asked everyone to share where they were on September 11, 2001. I will never forget, in the same way that I remember where I was when Challenger blew up, when the federal building in Oklahoma City was bombed, and the way my parents will never forget where they were when Pearl Harbor was attacked or when Kennedy was assassinated.

I was sitting at my desk at work, and my co-worker was talking to his wife. He hung up the phone, and said in a sad voice, "A plane crashed into the World Trade Center." I went to find my friend who had a radio at her desk, and then called Bryan to see if he knew. After the plane hit the Pentagon, I thought of my parents, who were visiting Washington, and my brother, who worked in northern Virginia. I spent a lot of time burning up the phone lines with my sister, just making sure everyone was okay (we had a family point of contact before the Department of Homeland Security was even formed). I remember the somber feeling that fell over the whole office area, and how surreal it was walking out onto the plant floor after that.

I remember hearing the stories of loss, and of heroism. I remember America mourning as a country, and coming together to try to heal. I remember the world standing with us in grief and support.

I will never forget 9/11/01, and I hope I never do.