Today is Patriots Day — the day we remember what we promised we’d never forget!
Nineteen years have passed since that fateful day, and I still tear-up remembering as I sat, glued to the TV screen, in utter disbelief. No matter what channel you turned to, it was the only thing on. Networks shared news footage for the first time ever, soap operas didn’t air, and home shopping channels (all the rage then) respectfully went off the air.
We watched as we thought the first plane crash was an accident. At first, everyone thought it was a small aircraft that hit. We listened to news reporters speculating on what type of plane could have done that much damage, but we were still in the dark about what was happening. It wasn’t until the second plane hit that we realized we were under attack.
I distinctly remember when the second plane hit. A startled news reporter asking “was that another plane?” One of the reporters “on the street” was interviewing a father who had rushed to his daughter’s day care after the first tower was hit, to pick her up. The little girl, who couldn’t have been 5, was tightly gripping her daddy’s hand when the second plane hit. She looked up at him and said “Look daddy, they’re doing it on purpose!” That little girl so easily saw what the rest of us had not yet figured out. But in the next few seconds, it all became perfectly clear — America was under attack.
Then it all became a whirl — the first tower collapsing, our President being informed of the situation while in front of a group of small school children, and maintaining his composure, the Pentagon being hit, our President being quickly whisked-off in Air Force One to destinations unknown, and then later, those brave passengers on the fourth plane and their tragic goodbye phone calls, as they took matters into their own hands, crashing the plane — preventing even more carnage.
We remember those horrific scenes we can never erase from our minds, of people trapped above the fire on the second tower, choosing to jump to their deaths to avoid the inevitable flames. We remember the collapse, and the white ash, and the boats that showed up in droves to transport trapped New Yorkers from harm’s way. We remember every US plane ordered to land, leaving Americans stranded all over our country and Canada, and the communities that stepped-up to care for them.
And how can we ever forget the days after — when we are all proud to be Americans, and we banded together. We promised we’d never forget. American flags were everywhere. We all took strength from those brave first responders who lost their lives trying to save others, and those heroic passengers on the fourth plane. We felt a surge of pride at that great bravery and selflessness. For one brief time, we didn’t care about politics, we weren’t Democrats and Republicans, we weren’t liberals and conservatives — we were Americans! If only it didn’t take great tragedy to bring us all together.
