Untitled Essay–September 3, 2002

In memory of the terrorist attacks on 9/11, I wrote this essay in 2002:

Just as December 7, 1941 evokes crystal-clear memories for my grandparents, the second Tuesday of September 2001 will remain vividly etched in my mind forever. I can tell anyone exactly where I was when voices trained to reflect professionalism dripped with fear and pain as they relayed the horrific news. The World Trade Center’s Twin Towers, symbols of our nation’s commerce, had been struck by planes. We later found out about the Pentagon, a building most Americans associate with security, had also been attacked. Everything we knew had been turned upside down. I had entered my first period class on that pristine September morning laughing, enjoying another carefree high school day. Mere hours later, I walked down an abandoned hallway, televisions playing in stereo in the classrooms. Students were speechlessly glued to what was happening in front of their very eyes. A feeling of helplessness hung in the air among the many other emotions racing through our veins: anger, horror, and disbelief. Football players, band members, teachers, and people from all walks of life solemnly watched and felt powerless, unable to stop the carnage. Many thought it was a nightmare that would be drowned with gas station cappuccinos and loud music blaring from their cars on the way to school. We all hoped it was something that could be shrugged off because it wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be happening. Parents from Wright-Patterson retrieved their children to hold them, thankful that this tragedy was a few hundred miles away, yet feaful that it could hit close to home. The rest of us left at the school spent our classes taking in as much of the nonstop news as we could stomach. Each of us looked forward to getting home to our families, and a tiny sense of relief blanketed us as we ventured from the school. Chaos seemed to have struck our small, insignificant town when gas prices peaked at around five dollar a gallon and a terrifying sonic boom put everyone on edge for the rest of the day. While sympathy poured in from all corners of the globe, a nation mourned what was expected to be upwards of 50,000 fatalities. Sleep did not come easily for America that night.

When daybreak nudged us from the semi-slumber no one had expected to succumb to, we turned on CNN to verify that the horrific events had indeed taken place. I remember the first of many moments of silence at school. On Wednesday, we were asked to reflect on the tragedy. My musings were centered on the "what if" aspect of the incident. How many families will remember September 11th on a personal level? How many loved ones were ripped savagely out of their worlds? How many chairs at the dinner table will remain vacant? If only those misguided terrorists had attempted to see things from this perspective. The silhouettes missing from weddings, family picutres, picnics, bar mitzvahs, and birthday parties would still be alive. Mothers, brothers, fathers, sisters, sons, daughters, best friends would be hugging, laughing, loving, and living. Maybe if the hijackers of United Airlines flight 93 had seen the passengers as people instead of casualties, things would have been very different. They may have enjoyed a game of basketball with Todd Beamer. They could have been regaled by stories about the time that Mark Bingham ran with the bulls in Spain. Perhaps their hearts could have been melted if they held Jeremy Glick’s baby girl, Emerson, in their arms. What if…?

There may be some shelter from the storm for those who desperately seek refuge. A renewed sense of patriotism prompted Americans to display red, white, and blue flags everywhere. Stars and stripes showed our immense love, pride, and respect for our country. A quote from Herbert Hoover: "No country is more loved by its people," held more truth than ever before. In addition, heroes were discovered in firefighters, police officers, Red Cross volunteers, and blood donors throughout the country. Common people became extraordinary in less than twenty-four hours. Although under tragic circumstances, the names Todd Beamer, Mychal Judge, Jeremy Glick, and Mark Bingham among others will forever be associated with the word "hero"!

Ambassador Henry Grunwald once said: "Among America’s greatest strengths is its capacity for renewal: it has shed its skin again and again to re-emerge with new life." A year has gone by and a nation still mourns. Although the pain and the scars will always be there, it’s time to look forward. We can and will recover, stronger than ever. We will fight back and defend our country for those who came before, and protect it for posterity. We will stand together, united in our love for all that we believe in. The past is bleak but our future is bright, so in the words of Todd Beamer, "Let’s roll."