September 11th, 2001.
One of these moments. This day was not a defining moment in an individual's life; it was a defining moment for an entire nation and America herself. Thirteen years later, 9/11 brings back nothing less than deep emotion, swelling pride, and a question. Where were you?
I close my eyes, and I am back in Mrs. Rohrig's 3rd grade classroom. I could tell something was wrong. A solemn, eerie wave had passed through the school. The teachers were hushed and crying. A number of my friends were taken home early. A number of teachers went home early. There were whispers all around me, but my age kept me out of the loop.
My classmates and I were eight years old. Naturally rambunctious. But that afternoon, we were quiet. We didn't know why, but we could feel that the moment called for silence.
During the bus ride home, we could finally be eight years old again. Laughing, teasing, hopping from seat to seat. We had escaped the tension of the strange school day. I shot off the bus, bounded up my front steps, and burst through the door - eager to tell my mom how Taylor's class joined mine because her teacher left. Yet, with a foot through the door, the tension was back.
I will never forget the moment I found out. I heard my mom sobbing on the coach. I saw fire and destruction on the TV. I thought she was watching a sad movie. She embraced me and tried to explain what had happened through sobs. Two planes...Hijacked by terrorists...Crashed into New York skyscrapers...Lots of innocent people...Firefighters...Policeman....Dead.
How can an eight year old comprehend that?
The next day at school, Mrs. Rohrig was released to talk about the tragedy. "Yesterday's events will be in history books. You will never forget where you were on this day." These words have been etched on my heart ever since.
I am overwhelmed with emotions as I think back 13 years ago. However, I am not bogged down with memories of defeat or destruction. Instead, I am reminded of the day I learned what "the land of the free and the home of the brave" truly meant. The day I learned what a hero meant. The day I decided to become a hero and raise money for the Red Cross - going door-to-door selling my homemade USA cookies, and proudly contributing right under $50. The day I learned what it meant to love the red, white, and blue.
This is how I remember the moment. Rare, profound, character defining, life changing. I will never forget.
Where were you?
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