9/11 is one of those events in history that will be frozen in time for those old enough to remember it.
My mother has many such moments. For her generation first hearing about the Pearl Harbor attack and the death of President Rooselvelt stand out in her memory. She can remember them like yesterday.
Even though I was a pre-schooler I remember President Kennedy’s assasination because all of the adults in my life were so upset by it. The Challenger Explosion is another such event for me, and now 9/11.
It was a beautiful morning. I had my darling two-year-old little girl and her freckled faced three-year-old brother that I was trying to get occupied on something so that I could start homeschooling my 3rd, 1st and 6th graders at the time! (wow does that seem odd to me now!) I was in a very good mood when my husband called to tell me that a plane had flown into the World Trade Center! I immediately thought of a little private plane and quickly said a prayer for the pilot whom I was just certain must have had a heart attack or a stroke that caused him to go so severely off course and into the building. My husband did not have any more news at that time.
A while later he called me back to tell me another plane had crashed. My first thought was, “Wow, what are the chances of that?!”
Duh.
It just never occurred to me that someone would do that on purpose.
Mr. Pete then told me these were big jets and I should turn on the television. That’s when I finally understood what was really happening. The news continued with the Pentagon attack. But I didn’t become afraid for my own safety until I heard about the crash in Pennsylvania. A plane could easily fly right over Akron in a matter of minutes from Pennsylvania. And then I wondered if there were more planes? Were there more targets and would one of them be in the Cleveland area? I thought that finally the emergency broadcasting system, which had so annoyingly sent high pitched tones over the radio all of my life would finally serve a purpose! But there was no message to evacuate, or to take cover.
I remember running upstairs and e-mailing my friend Twana, telling her I loved her. I remember getting a hold of my mom, and then sitting with the rest of the country watching the crashes over and over and over again.
When the buildings collapsed I was just mortified. How could anyone survive that?
I remember when the twin towers went up I thought they were so uninteresting looking. Mr. Pete, who really enjoys classical architecture, hated them. Yet once they were gone we both missed them so much. Every time we see a movie or watch a show set in New York City we watch for those towers to know if it was pre or post 9/11. We excitedly point them out to our children. I recently borrowed Godspell from the library because they actually dance on the roof of one of the towers in the movie, and I wanted to see them again.
All of my memories of 9/11 aren’t bad ones. I remember everyone started putting American flags on their cars, in their windows and on their lawns. They were every where. You couldn’t find a flag for sale they were so popular.
I also remember the blood drives. The idea was that there would be so many injured there would be a huge demand for blood. Mr. Pete couldn’t give because he had donated too recently. We took cookies to one site for the donors. People were lined up at all the donation locations.
For everyone who lived through it, this is our Alamo. A defining moment. A point in time where everything changed. Our children will ask us about it. We will always remember.
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