Never Forget

NBC decided to "skip" the moment of silence in exchange for the ever-pressing issue of Kris Kardashian and her thoughts on breast-augmentation and having Kanye West join the family. 

President Obama tweeted this morning “The election is in 8 weeks. Sign up to volunteer…”

Friends on my Facebook Newsfeed decided posting pictures of themselves and statuses about Pandora, shopping misadventures, and boyfriends who didn’t call were important issues for September 11, 2012. 

I was only 10 years old.  I remember sitting on the couch with my sister watching images on the news flash before us that really neither of us understood. 

I remember arriving at school, the hallway uncharacteristically lifeless, silent, empty. 

I remember walking down the hall as a waterfall of bewildered news anchors’ voices hit my ears: “No one knows who instigated the attacks…”, “Breaking news: World Trade Center Towers in New York City…”, “Completely devastated families…” each classroom being locked onto a different news channel for the rest of the day. 

I remember Fox News being muted in the background as we proceeded with the lesson plan of the day.  After a few hours, Mrs. Bishop decided we couldn’t ignore it any longer. The rest of the day was spent writing letters of encouragement to our soldiers, and letters of remorse and gratitude to the police and firemen of New York.

I remember the images of the hundreds and hundreds of flyers posted all over a wall as families desperately searched for their missing loved ones. 

I remember the following year going outside with my entire elementary school and having an entire minute of silence for the fallen.  I remember how silent real silence should be. 

I remember walking back into class and seeing the boy sitting next to me with tears in his eyes.  His uncle was a fireman from Colorado, who volunteered, risked, and lost his life trying to find survivors among the wreckage of the towers. 

I remember every year following having moments of silence, where typical rowdy teenagers stood silently gathered around a flag while the Pledge of Allegiance was later said with such vigor, even a cocky 14-year-old girl just trying to be cool was brought to tears.

I remember going to the Stadium of Fire on the Fourth of July and seeing them carry in the American Flag that flew above the Twin Towers.  I remember feeling so much love, compassion, honor, and pride in the men and women who fought, were fighting, and were preparing to fight for our country, I knew I would never look at another American Flag the same. 

I remember meeting a friend right after the 10^th Anniversary of the attacks last year who had just returned from his service in Afghanistan after his tank was hit by a roadside bomb.  I remember helping him change the bandages on his leg where he shattered every single bone fighting for my freedom, for my family’s freedom, for this countries freedom.  I remember when he texted me two months ago and told me his leg had been amputated from the knee down, and how different his life was about to be. 

I remember when NBC omitted the moment of silence.

I remember when President Obama tweeted about the upcoming election rather than the greatest American tragedy since Pearl Harbor. 

I remember when my friends on Facebook decided that other things were more important than the lives of nearly 3,000 people being lost.  

I remember.

I can tell you JC Corbridge, who lost his leg fighting in the Middle East, remembers.

I can tell you Denise Scott, who’s husband died trapped on the 84^th floor remembers.

I can tell you Cathie Ong, who’s sister was a flight attendant on AA Flight 11 who died fighting the hijackers, remembers. 

Posting about anything else but the September 11^th attacks seemed wrong because I do remember. 

Has it been so long that we can’t take one small moment from our comfortable, blessed lives and remember the sacrifices that were made for us?

But things do change. Time has passed by.  The rubble of the towers was cleared away for a beautiful memorial.  Wounds were healed.  Families were mended.  Osama bin Laden was pronounced dead.  Hope was brought back to the United States of America. 

No matter how many Anniversary's pass by, there is always one thing that will not fade away, and that’s the memory of 9/11. 

In 50 years people will be asking, “Where were you?”

It will live on well beyond our lives, as it should. 

And so, I will never forget.