Please read my September 11th experience before you read the rest of this.
This year is the first year I’ve had to work on the anniversary of September 11th in a very long time.
For the first time, it snuck up on me.
The attacks of 9/11/01 are a permanent part of my heart and soul. There isn’t a day of my life that isn’t influenced by that moment in some way. My whole life, when you get down to it, has been permanently altered by that day.
But life has gotten very busy for us this summer, and when it came time to bid for my September work schedule, I somehow just…missed making the connection.
That’s good. It means that finally, after over a decade, the sheer horror of that atrocious event is fading from my active mind.
It’s bad, though, because I never, ever want to forget. I never want to become as complacent as so many Americans seem to have become about that day.
Honestly, though, I don’t think that can ever happen for me.
At this moment, I can close my eyes and almost be magically transported back. I can re-live every moment of that day.
I can easily describe the weather that morning; the way the clouds looked, the temperature. I can tell you the sounds I heard, the conversations I had, the panicked numbness I muddled through.
I can also re-live the experience of surviving in the aftermath of the attacks. The black cloud that hung in the air over Manhattan for months, that I bore witness to every day I was at home. The fear of opening my mail, thanks to Anthrax. The subdued nervousness of every flight crew member and every passenger that traveled for almost a year after the attacks.
I can re-live the terror I felt one short month later when we had barely taken off in a 757 from Newark, heading to Los Angeles, and we learned that a plane had crashed in Jamaica Bay, NY. I can remember how each of the Flight Attendants working that flight with me took turns escaping to the lavatories to sob hysterically before composing ourselves and returning to the cabin to comfort the passengers – and keenly watch for any terrorists who would attack our flight, carrying corkscrews and other makeshift weapons in our apron pockets in fearful anticipation.
I remember all of the stories of all the people I knew, and what they experienced.
I remember a few months later, finding myself hiding under the bathroom sink in a hotel room, tears covering my face, with no memory of how I got there. All I remembered was watching TV and seeing yet another news report about September 11th, and suddenly everything going black.
Today, I still feel a sinking pit in my stomach when I remember.
I still cry.
So I won’t ever forget. I won’t ever be able to be who I was on September 10th, 2001 ever again.
And today, I’m flying on this momentous anniversary.
It’s going to be a hard day for me, as it will be a hard day for so many thousands of people who were permanently altered by the attacks.
On this day, I have no words to adequately describe how I feel.
All I want to say to the world is summed up in three things.
First, remember. Remember the many lives lost that day. Remember that this attack was, at it’s core, an attack on our Freedom and Liberty. Remember the innocent lives lost simply because they were there; people living in Freedom and Liberty. Fight for our Freedoms and our Liberty.
Even in our fear, we must not willingly give those things up for the appearance of safety.
Second, hug your children. Kiss your spouse. Tell your loved ones how you feel.
Never let them doubt they matter to you.
Third, and maybe the most important thing I want to say:
Pray. Pray for America. Pray for the lost lives. Pray for the survivors.
Just pray.
