This past May, it had been 10 years since I graduated high school. That feels like a very long time ago. 10 years ago, today, I was starting my first week of college. That feels like yesterday.
It always amazes me when people can tell me exactly where they were when JFK was shot. I think it's so cool to learn about something in a history class and then have people who actually experienced it remembering exactly how the day went and what they remember. It will never not be weird to me that someday when Brady and his brothers and sisters are learning about 9/11/01 in their history books, not only will I remember where I was, I will have the pictures to prove it. They will come home from school and say "Mommy do you remember where you were on 9/11?" And I will tell them, "Yes, I was standing on 5th Ave. in NYC watching the towers fall."
I started the morning being woken up before 6am due to a fire alarm in our freshman dorm. Honestly, the sleep deprivation from having a baby probably still doesn't compare to the sleep deprivation of my first year (especially my first weeks) in college. Hey! It was NYC! The city doesn't sleep, so why should we! The last thing any of us wanted to do is head outside with bedhead and pj's -- we were still working on first impressions here! But we all huddled across the street from Brittany Hall, embarrassingly waving at our new friends and patting down our hair and hiding our glasses and noticing the fact that there was no smoke and no flames. No fire. Hello! Why were we awake!? Didn't anyone realize we had *just* started classes and had only gone to bed a few hours ago and had to be up soon for a long day at studio!? We growled under our breath at the firemen as they took their time claiming it "safe." The next call these exact firemen would get, would be to the Twin Towers. They were one of the first groups of firemen down there and many would lose their lives later that day. And to think, they had to start the day with a bunch of grumpy, spoiled college kids. May God bless their families and may they all be enjoying heaven.
A couple of hours later, I was brushing my hair on my bed, waiting for my roommate Libby to finish in the bathroom, the clock radio still on low from my alarm, when I heard an incredibly low plane zoom over my dorm. I remember being like "ugh why the hell is that plane flying so low, its too early for this loudness." Not 10 minutes later, as I was ready to run out the door to meet my friend Derrence who I walked down the street to breakfast with, the dj on the radio informed us that a plane has crashed into one of the twin towers. Libby and I both stopped what we doing, looked at each other, and turned the radio up. We thought it was a joke, until we both said "Did you hear that plane a minute ago?" Afraid of being late for breakfast, and thus studio (a HUGE no-no), I raced out the door to meet Derrence. We made it one block, to 10th and University, before we looked up and saw the smoke out of the first tower. We were both like "Hm, this is probably going to be historic, we should go take pictures." We decided to forgo breakfast for documenting history and raced back to our dorm. When we entered, the radio that the doorman had on told us a second plane had crashed into the second tower. How ironic right?! We ran upstairs to the Brittany Hall penthouse, where we joined a whole slew of kids in our dorm (the ones that were up before 9am anyways) and took pictures of this weird occurrence. Little did we know that in minutes our lives would be forever changed.
In the hours that followed, I spent time running around NYC in a panic with a bunch of other new 18 year old NYCers trying to decipher what had happened ... and what was going to happen. I stood on 5th Ave. as I watched the second tower fall. I listened to the screams and panics of everyone around me. I watched dozens of New Yorkers fall to the ground in tears. I watched friends and strangers grab one another and hold them. I watched what had to be the biggest cell phone outage ever as everyone tried to call someone .. and no one got anyone. All we had was each other. And that had to be enough that day. And it was. I will forever feel bonded to those friends that I ran through the streets of New York with. I was always treasure my new freshmen roommates who became like sisters that night. I will always miss New York City on 9/11.
On that night 10 years ago, I joined most of NYU's population as we congregated in Washington Square Park with candles. We cried on each other's shoulders. We choked on the smoke from downtown. We weeped
Many of us in New York deal with "survivors guilt." We discussed it it many of our classes, with many of our teachers for many years. We felt guilty -- why did we survive when so many New Yorkers did not? Why did God decide they should die, but we shouldn't? Why should we mourn for our lost childhood when so many children were mourning their dead parents? Why should we feel scared when it wasn't truly our city yet that was threatened? But, it was our city too, and we deserved to be hurt and scared too. I am lucky enough to not have lost anyone I loved that day. I thank God everyday for that. But I will always mourn what my mind refers to as "the beginning of the end." The beginning of the war on terrorism-- if they got through our "barricades" once, they will again. It's only a matter of time. So today, I will hug my son a little bit tighter, kiss my husband a little bit longer, and thank God a little bit more for keeping me safe that day and then I pray a little bit stronger that God continues to keep my family, and the rest of America, safe, for many many more years.
Thank you, God, for keeping me safe 10 years ago. Thank you for giving me friends shoulders to cry on and the strength to go on as a New Yorker. I will forever be stronger for going through the experience and I will always appreciate that God put me there at that time. It took me years to figure out why God would grant me the courage to move to New York on my own, and then put me through that experience. I'm pretty sure it was not just so I could take a canceled tourist's ticket to see Matthew Broderick and Nathan Lane in The Producers (though that was pretty awesome!). But I know that going through that, and the subsequent years, made me stronger, made me the person I am today. And I couldn't be more happy and grateful for where I have ended up. And I truly hope that all those who lost a loved one 10 years ago may find peace in their hearts. I will never forget all the heroes that died that day.
When they are old enough, I will tell Brady and his siblings all about my experiences on 9/11. I will give them my journal of the day to read. Not to scare them. So that they may have some sort of semblance of what I felt that day so that they may learn to appreciate all that God has blessed them with and never take the little things for granted. I hope that they will learn that everyday is a gift and that you have to live it to the fullest because we don't know if God is going to give us a tomorrow. All of the people that went to work at the twin towers this morning 10 years ago thought they were going to come home to kiss their children and husbands and wives and for some reason, they didn't get the chance to. So not just on 9/11, but everyday, I try to remember that. Because I can still hear the screams, I can still see the buildings falling, and I can still feel the smoke in my throat. So I can't forget. And I don't want to.
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| September 11, 2011 |
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