Remembering....

In a few short hours, we will be remembering one of the most memorable days in my lifetime. I remember exactly where I was and most of what I was doing--some minute details escape me. I was teaching a group of 7th graders when I called our history teacher. I have no idea why I called her, but her words were "World War III has started." I was quite confused, and she told me a plane had flown into the World Trade Center in New York City and to turn on the TV in my room. I turned on the TV, and my class and I watched the story unfold. Class ended and my next class came in. They had been watching it in the class period before. When one of the towers fell, one of my boys said "That's tight"--slang for awesome. I looked at him and said "Thousands of people just died instantly in front of our eyes, and you think that is tight?" I couldn't believe my ears!! How could someone find that moment to be anything but horrific. Later, I shared the comment with someone who put it in a different perspective--the kids had only witnessed scenes like that in the movies. He was probably looking at the picture on the TV thinking "WOW, What great special effects" instead of "OH MY!!! That's real life!" The younger generation only heard of such events from movies. My generation was born during the Viet Nam era and saw classmates head over to the Gulf War in the nineties. Experience really does mold our visions.





In June/July of 2002, I visited New York and Boston. While in New York, I made it a point to visit Ground Zero. It was one of the strangest feelings I have ever had in my life. The atmosphere was surreal--for lack of a better word. When we walked up to the giant hole that had been cleared of rubble, my thoughts were of the people who literally disappeared into thin air. The solemnness was overwhelming. There were a lot of people in the same area, yet is was as if I was alone. You could hear the silence in your ears as loud as a jet engine. I didn't shed a single tear--which is odd for me, since I cry watching ESPN. My emotions were paralyzed. I couldn't cry if I wanted. When I was flying home from Boston, my carry-on bag was wiped down with what looked like a Stridex pad. They were checking for explosive residue. It was difficult not to panic, but I managed to keep calm. I couldn't help but think of the people who boarded a plane in the very same airport I was standing in, who never made it to their destinations because some people I will never understand made a choice to overpower the planes.





In October of 2002, I was in Washington, DC, to celebrate a national award our school won. When the attack happened, we were in the final stages of writing our application--working almost around the clock. While in DC, we went to the Pentagon. Other than the security, there were no signs of the attack. The damage had been repaired--but the feeling was still there...the one I had in New York. We also went to the September 11th section at the Smithsonian Institute. Again, my feelings were paralyzed--until I saw the video. As I stood there by myself watching the movie on the little bitty TV, I cried. I had a sinking, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Watching the firemen in the lobby of the World Trade Center barking orders to the other men, entering the stairwells and elevators to fight the fires, listening and watching them "do their jobs"--knowing they never made it out of the building--broke my heart. They were doing their job, as if they would go home at the end of the day and be happy. At that moment, I knew what it meant to sacrifice yourself for others. I felt for them. I felt for their families and friends. And, I cried. Later, I was talking to another person in our party, and she relayed her "breakdown" moment--when she saw a teddy bear that was left in the field in Pennsylvania.





Ten years later, I look at my class of 8th graders and think "They weren't even in school when this happened. Do they comprehend the true meaning of what happened or is it how my generation looks at other "life-changing" events, such as President Kennedy's assassination? What does this anniversary mean to them?" I think about the families who lost loved ones that day. I know they will never forget, but have they moved on? Has it been more difficult for them to move on since it's one of those "in your face" anniversaries each year--not only are they remembering, but the WORLD is remembering. Or is it easier because they have the comfort of the world behind them?





On this anniversary, my wish is for this young generation and future generations to never have an event that they will always remember. However, if we don't teach the past, we are destined to repeat it. We will never forget that day--how could we? But, we can celebrate the lives of those who perished and not mention the ones who caused it. They wanted that recognition--let's not give in to them.