Ten Years Ago...

Everyone who was alive and old enough to understand what was happening remembers where they were that day.  The date, and the details of that day are seared into our memories.

September 11, 2001.  

Just seven months earlier, I was on a beach in Mexico with my new husband.  Just a week or two before, I was on a plane, several in fact, heading to and from El Paso, Texas to visit my grandmother.  Plane trips were no big deal then, it was even fun.  Just four days before, Rob and I were up in a hot air balloon, a trip that had been postponed for over a year for one reason or another.  Looking back at those pictures, and seeing the time stamp on the bottom makes me realize how innocent we were before that day.  We will always look at any date prior to September 11, 2001 and think, "that was before our world was changed forever."

I didn't even know what was happening until after the second plane hit the tower.  I was at my desk in the sales office, which was separated from the rest of the offices in our building and for some reason, didn't have the radio on that morning.  My husband called me and asked, "Did you hear?  Two planes just crashed into the World Trade Center in New York!"  Stunned, I asked if it was an accident.  My husband said "they" weren't sure, but it didn't look like it.

There was a small television in the showroom, and that's where I found most of my coworkers.  We all watched in stunned silence as the twin towers, icons of New York City, burned.  No one knew quite what was happening.  Then the Pentagon was hit.  I was on the phone with my mother in Alabama when the first tower went down, and watched in horror as the second one collapsed a short time later.  Then the plane crash in Pennsylvania... the one that never made it to it's ultimate destination, but at the time, watching on the news, we didn't know about the bravery of the people on that plane.

In the days that followed, before air travel was resumed, the sky above our house was eerily quiet.  We live in close proximity to the airport here, and planes flying over our house was a normal daily occurrence.  But as strange as the quiet was, the noise of an airplane flying low overhead would for months bring anxiety.  Several months after the attack, we learned that the original plan was to devastate more cities, possibly including Charlotte, which is the nation's second largest banking city.  

Even now, ten years later, the pictures from that day are difficult to watch.  I've seen the 9/11 exhibit at the Smithsonian in Washington DC, a very sobering, sad and moving exhibit.  It's almost harder to watch those scenes unfold now than when it was actually happening.  We were numb from shock and disbelief then... now, we know what's coming.  

Still, I think it's important to remember.  Not only to honor those who were lost on that day, and not only to renew our sense of patriotism.  We remember to be vigilant, but not live in fear.  We remember to be present, and grateful, and thankful to be here.  We remember not only the tragedy, but the heroism, so that we can teach our children the true meaning of bravery.  

I still haven't found a way to talk to my children, who were not born yet, about what happened that day.  I know they have seen some images on the news this week, with the 10th anniversary looming.  But they haven't asked any questions, so I haven't offered any explanations.  After all, how do you explain evil to a child, who's mind is still innocent and pure?  Someday, I know I'll have to try.  

For now, I'll remember, as we all will, and try still to comprehend the incomprehensible.