I will never forget

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This post seems trivial and meaningless as I read over it. I wasn’t in New York on Sept. 11 and I don’t directly know anyone who passed away on that day, but I wanted to share my heart a bit with you today and I’d like you to share your heart with me in the comments. Where were you? Where were your children? Do you think it is possible to ever forget that day in our history after having lived through it? I wasn’t affected directly, but like so many, I was forever changed. 

We had been listening to a cassette tape of Bear In The Big Blue House. It had a song on it that Brady and I listened to each morning on the way to take him to my mother’s house so I could get to class. Ricky worked in Huntsville so he went one way and I headed the other, for my hour and a half commute to Florence, Alabama four days a week. Fortunately, Mama’s was a good halfway point so my two year old didn’t have to sit in the car nearly as long.

As the last strains of our song played, I hit eject to listen to the radio a bit in the last ten minutes or so until we got to Mama’s house. I turned it up when they were talking about the plane and listened intently, taking a minute or two to catch up on the details and figure out why everyone sounded so strained.

My first thought was disbelief. It just had to be one of those War of the World things. I felt anger rolling inside me at what I thought must be a sick joke, but they dj’s continued, so I called Mama. “Can you turn on the tv? They’re saying an airplane flew into the world trade center.” Mama asked “Huh? I haven’t heard anything about that. When? ” As she was turning the channels, I was slightly relieved, thinking if she didn’t know about it then it was most likely a joke. She found it a moment later and sat down to gather all of the details as we both sat silently on the phone together. “Oh Christy, I see it. It’s awful.”

“Are you serious? So it’s really real?” We had a minute or two to discuss what could have possibly caused it, our first thought went to it being some freakish radar glitch that caused the pilots to miscalculate…and then Mama said “Oh God, another one just went in!”

I was at her house a minute or two later with Brady and we both sat down in front of the tv while he toddled over to a familiar bucket of toys in her living room. It wasn’t long before we realized the sinister truth of the plane crashes as other events began to unfold.

I called my professor and said “What am I supposed to do? Do I come to class? Are they closing the university?” It was silly to worry about missing class but I was still in shock. She told me to be wherever I needed to be, so I told her I needed to be with Brady and spent the day at my mother’s house watching the horror unfold, each of us taking breaks to play with Brady, fix his lunch, and spend a few minutes pretending everything was alright for the two year old who had no idea everything wasn’t.

That night I finally drove home with Brady and put him to bed but there was no way I could sleep. Ricky had been watching all day at his work and he and I sat down together, going over the news and wondering what would happen next. Watching the people jump off again and again in replayed footage. The pain of an entire country seemed to hang in the air and we found ourselves unable to sleep, like so many of the rest of the world.

Instead, I spent a few hours writing a letter to my son. I needed him to know what happened, how it felt at that moment, what it was really like. I wanted him to understand in a way that a kid looking back and reading about it in a history book just wouldn’t. I wrote him for over an hour, ending up with a 30+ page letter describing just where he was and what was going through his mother’s mind when the planes hit. I tried to explain the pain, the fear, the tragedy and the loss. I explained what it was like seeing those people jump. I explained what it was like seeing the people doing all they could to rescue others. I described the firefighters, the policeman, the people in the street, how they all turned into heroes that day. I did the best I could to give him an account of what that day in his life was like through the eyes of his mother. How we all held our breath and waited to see where the next attack would take place. How I looked outside and wondered where I could possibly run with my beautiful little baby to keep him safe.

When I’d ran out of words and realized that some emotions just couldn’t be expressed- I sealed that letter, wrote his name on the front, and dated it 9-11-2029, deciding that he needed to be close to the age I was when I wrote it before my words would be able to carry the weight I needed them to. I couldn’t help but hope that by the time he did read it, our world would be so very different from that day that the violence and horror would seem foreign to him outside of my letter.

A few weeks later we took Brady to the Nashville Zoo. As we were walking around we heard a plane fly over and Ricky and I both froze in place and looked at each other while we held our breath and scanned the horizon. I’ll never forget that feeling in the pit of my stomach as I clutched Brady’s tiny hand and said a silent prayer until the sound of the plane engine dissipated. Even now, whenever I hear a plane fly over the house in the quiet hours of evening I hold my breath. I know many of you do the same.

We made a lot of promises ten years ago, one of the key ones being that we would never forget but if you were alive ten years ago. I can’t imagine we could ever possibly forget exactly where we were and what that day was like.

In honor of all who lost their lives on September 11th, God Bless America.

I remember.

34 Comments

  1. On 9-11-01 my husband was out of town for his job. I had been up all night with a horrible headache and had been asleep for a couple of hours when the phone rang. The minute I heard his voice I knew something was wrong. He asked me if I had the TV on and I told him no that I had been laying down. He told me what happened and I turned the tv on and was watching when the second plane hit. I remember thinking that this could not be real that it must be some sort of sick joke. My husband couldn’t get home because all the planes were grounded and there wasn’t a rental car to be found. I remember lying on the couch in shock just crying and crying not knowing what to do. A few months before Sept we had adopted a dog from the humane society. She was a precious cocker spaniel but she would have nothing to do with me. She loved my husband. I did everything I could to try to win her over but she absolutely did not want anything to do with me. When my husband left for work she moped until he got home. She wouldn’t let me pet her or anything. That day while I was laying on the couch crying my eyes out she climbed on my chest and started licking my tears away. She stayed with me the entire time. When I got up and went to the bathroom she went with me and sat at my feet. When I lay back down on the couch she climbed back on my chest. When I had to turn the tv off because I couldn’t bear to watch anymore she climbed in bed with me and stayed right beside me. When my husband finally got home three days later she still never left my side. We lost that precious dog five years later to cancer but I will never forget her and how she got my through that horrible day.

  2. As I lived in England at the time, we had just come in the house from being out somewhere. I remember being stunned, sobbing uncontrollably (crying as I write this) and seeing what was happening in my country. Even though I didn’t know anyone directly affected by this horrific attack and resulting carnage, I still feel the pain. It is something that will forever be etched upon my soul…

  3. I had taken the day off and I don’t remember why. I got up around 7:30 and turned on the tv. I sat down in shock and fear took over and I began to sob. I sat there for half an hour trying to calm myself and trying to call my son, daughter-in-law with no luck. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get through but I had to try. You see, my son and his wife had gone on vacation with a couple from work. They had taken a once in a lifetime trip to New York. They were supposed to be flying home that morning. Their hotel was on the other side of the towers from the airport and they should have been on the subway on the way to the airport. I couldn’t keep my fear and panic to myself any longer and went to wake my husband. He didn’t understand at first, he couldn’t comprehend what I was babbling about. He finally woke up enough to try to comfort me. I knew the details of the kids trip but he didn’t. I made him understand why I was in such a panic and he went back to the tv with me. Our phone started ringing with friends worried about our kids and us. Our daughter-in-laws mother called. Neither of us had heard from the kids. She kept her tv off to keep our 4 tear old grandson from seeing the news. We promised to call each other if either of us heard from them. Finally about 2pm I answered the phone and heard the voice I had been praying to hear, my son, Ben. Our prayers had been answered! Ben, Jamie, Jennifer and her boyfriend were all safe. We were so grateful and felt so blessed! But we also had guilt feelings for being so relieved knowing that so many others would never hear the voices of there lost loved ones. Would never see their beloved faces and feel the comfort of their hugs. The world changed that day and nothing would ever be the same safe world we thought it was. Our younger son was in the Army stationed at Ft. Drum New York. My worry transferred to him. Would he be sent in to help with rescue, crowd control or ??? I later found out that Joe was at a post in Louisiana for a training mission, safe. Thank You Jesus! Joe deployed twice to Iraq and came home physically safe. Mentally and emotionally, he will never be the same. Three months later, Ben who had been in NYC on 9/11, lost his life in a motorcycle accident. I believe God gave me those last 3 years with Ben as he knew I would break under the loss of one son and the deployment of the other. I know it sounds crazy. God gave me the gift of three years with my son. We had always been close but we made a very deliberate choice to NEVER end a phone call or a visit without telling each other that they’re loved. To NEVER let an argument or disagreement linger. To always remember that our lives could have been so much more effected by the terrorist attacks that day and any that may come in the future.

  4. Christy, your story brought tears to my eyes and brought back all my emotions from that day. I think it’s important to relive that day in our heads and feel that pain again so that we don’t take anything for granted and be thankful for all of our blessings. Thank you. I’ll never forget.

  5. Your story is not trivial! We were all changed by that day! It is “our” day, whether we lost a loved on on 9/11 or not. Ironically, I thought my 9/11 post was trivial until I read everyone else’s and realized that we are ALL affected by the events of and since that day. I’m just sorry that I failed to mention how scared I was. And how terrified my children were. It breaks my heart! Thank you for sharing!

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