It's here once again, and the fact that it's noon and a thread hasn't been posted yet is making me think. How many people here can remember off the top of their heads what day Pearl Harbor was? The sad thing is that 9/11 already being forgotten. People who weren't even born when it happened are getting ready to graduate elementary school and in a couple years they're going to be saying "what's the big deal?" In the end, remembrance is only about what it does for you. Does it make you want to change? Does it remind you not to get complacent? If so, then something good came out of it that will outlast even the memories.
Well, I for one will never forget. I have a commorative tattoo. It's a red, white, and blue ribbon, over my heart. It will be part of me forever.
I was ten when it happened, and it was the first year I did homeschooling. Suddenly I noticed everyone was watching tv, and I realised it had to be something important if they were doing that during school. I remember seeing the towers collapse and not actually getting what was going on.
It indeed makes me wonder about the priorities of people as time passes, especially of New Yorkers, yet there is also the selflessness and heroism of those that perished, that remains to inspire and encourage us to better ends. It is raining today, and it seems appropriate that it be so.
I don't think that not posting a thread means we're forgetting about it. There are just better ways of remembering than running to the forum to start a thread about it. I was getting ready for school when it happened, and I remember being annoyed because I thought it was fake and all the channels were playing it like it was something real. I think that made it hit all the harder when I realized it wasn't fake...because I'd believed so hard that it hadn't really happened. Edit: That first sentence sounds really rude. I didn't mean it that way.
I was living in Bayonne NJ at the time, I could see the WTC from around the corner from my house. We had soot on our screens from the smoke a couple days later. The Friday after it happened, I attended a vigil at Exchange Place, the waterfront on the NJ side opposite the WTC. Smoke was still rising from the WTC. The one poem I wrote in my entire life was about that, if I can find it I'll post it. There were people lining up to volunteer. They had more volunteers than they could handle. Most of them were just handing supplies to the next person in a long line leading to a small boat that was bringing supplies to and from the WTC. People running around everywhere, carrying signs, handing out flyers, "Have you seen this person?" I remember seeing a little boy, running around holding a candle and saying into the candle, "I miss you, I miss you, I miss you." A group of nuns was standing, singing some hymn. A fireman was sitting off to the side, obviously just back from ground zero, his face in utter shock. Wow, this almost became the first 9-11 since 2001 that I didn't cry. But I did, just now, writing about the little boy. Anyway, two people that I knew (though not well) died in the WTC, one being a friend of my wife's sister, the other being distantly related to me by two marriages (my wife's sister's husband's brother, or, the brother of my brother-in-law.) The latter, I attended the funeral service for, many months later (empty casket.) I don't think I'll forget the day any time soon. Charlie
I was volunteering at an adult model day care center for elderly people with Alzheimer's. It was awful. We were having TV time. All the old folks were in front of the TV when it happened.
I was actually downtown, in a class, so everyone did not know until close to the end, when someone finally comes in to say that planes have hit the WTC. I walk outside to see people covered in soot, walking into Washington Square Park. There are sirens, and radios blaring about the crashes and it seemed surreal. Not until later, that I saw the images that the enormity began to compute.
My mother-in-law was in the hospital... Bayonne Medical Center. She actually saw the first tower fall from her hospital window. The book I'm writing, a fiction novel, actually has a scene where that happens to a character in a flashback to 9-11-01, though in redrafting I'm not sure it will make the final cut. Charlie
What I remember is standing in the hallway, watching the scene unfold on my school's in-house tv network wondering if it was a joke. I remember classmates panicking, wondering if the CN Tower or Skydome will be hit. Going home early, because even the principal and teachers knew nothing could be learned in class that day. It was such an uncertain, tragic day and so much tragedy has come of it. No one I spoke with today- at home, at work or friends, or even on the radio, have even mentioned it.
My wife called me that morning, said, "A plane hit one of the towers." I told a co-worker, we turned on the radio, a few minutes later they said, "We're getting sketchy reports that some debris hit the second tower... wait... this just in, a second plane hit the other tower," and my co-worker and I looked at each other, and we knew. Later, my wife called to tell me one of the towers fell. There was a big screen TV at work in one room, many of my coworkers were all gathered around. Finally, everyone was called into a meeting, we were allowed to go home, offered counseling, etc. I remember hearing about the Pentagon and the PA flight and all the rumors about other planes. Charlie
We stayed in school all day that day, and I remember wondering why they didn't just send us home. All we did in each of my classes was watch the news, and all anyone wanted was to go home to their families.
That hanging, permeating acrid odor was so disheartening. I could not fathom how such an event had happened and that it was still smoldering juts a borough away. Just as tragic was the aftermath, with all the thousands of responders developing chronic health issues.
Late at night lying in bed I usually hear a seaplane or the soft rumble of a big airliner, but that night and some nights after there was not a bit of noise. My father was somewhere in Asia on business, people were lighting candles and gathering on the streets in my neighborhood and holding little flags; it was all very strange.
Okay, this makes me mad. First of all, when I woke up today, one of the first things I said to my boyfriend was, "You know, it's 9/11." Of course I've remembered. How could I forget? But I didn't wear red, white, and blue to work. I didn't cry. I didn't post all over MySpace and Facebook "Remember 9/11" or anything like that. Because I chose to remember in my own quiet way. I just want to tell everyone that it's okay to live life normally today. Yes, it was a horrible tragedy that permanently changed the face of our nation, and had a worldwide impact. There were so many brave, innocent, amazing people lost that day. And we should never forget them. But we shouldn't be afraid to move on, either. If you feel the need to wear the colors of the flag today, or light a candle, or Twitter your memories about 9/11, more power to you. But don't you dare try to make me (or anyone else, for that matter) feel bad for not doing so.
I remember a gathering and procession of candle lights through the streets of my neighborhood that night with sorrowful prayers for the victims.
No, it didn't. In fact I agree. Again, I agree. As a non-American, I may have no right to comment here, but I'm going to any way. I don't think anyone will forget 9/11. It was a terrible attrocity, and one of the most awful events that any of us will ever witness. However, as Freshmaker says, we do have to move on. Not forget, simply move on. On 7/7, I said a quiet prayer for those who died. I didn't cry the whole day, and wrap myself in the union jack. (And how many of you knew what 7/7 meant without looking it up? Be honest). Any loss of life is reprehensible, and 9/11 is doubly so, because of the scale. But acts of terrorism happen across the world every day. It was the first major assault on American soil, so naturally it's going to be especially sore to American citizens. But the really sad thing is that terrorist bombs are not an uncommon thing. Does anyone remember the 1996 Manchester bombing, the 1993 Warrington bombing, the Birmingham pub bombings, the 1984 Brighton Hotel Bombing, or any of the other IRA attacks? Yes, of course we do. But we remember quietly, because lives must still be lived. So here's a prayer in memory of all those who died in the 9/11 attacks, and in all the other pointless acts of violence throughout human history.
Just a cautionary note: It was neither the first nor the last major assault on American soil, though certainly the biggest in a long while. The second biggest was the Oklahoma City bombing, and that was committed by a terrorist who was neither a foreigner nor a Muslim. Timothy McVeigh was an American, and a self-professed Christian. (Member of the Christian Identity movement.) Charlie
Well said, as always sweetie. Totally agree. There's no need to sour our prayers for the ones who suffered by preaching to others and going about displaying our 'respect' in distasteful ways. I thought about it today for a short moment, and said to myself 'All those poor people. What an awful day that was' and I also recalled what I was doing at the time. (I was coming out of school; my mum picked me up in the car, and said 'Something really terrible has happened in America' and we watched the news for ages when we got in) But other than that, it's all I could give. I think of the same things on 7/7 (The london bombings) and then I get on with my day. I will be thinking of all those people throughout the day/night, if for brief moments each time. But they are there, in my thoughts. [-Just a note...does anybody think it's a bit disgusting that they broadcast the phonecalls from the hijacked planes on a TV documentary about 9/11? I do. It's totally uneccessary and I can't think of anything more awful to listen to. The event was bad enough, but listening to them moments before....No way.-]
