September 11, 2001. I cannot say I remember it well. I was six years old. Like many of those I am in school with, we can recall tidbits of explicit memory or we do not remember a thing. What I can tell you is that my police officer father was enraged. I wasn't pulled out of school like the rest of the kids. I can picture the TV screen like it was yesterday, for we kept watching the news feeds over and over and over again. We couldn't help it. We didn't know whether to stay where we were or drive as far away from the city as possible. Being in New Jersey, we were scared, confused, and angry.
I watched my dad go from home almost every day due to some sick days to being transferred to New Jersey State Police's Office of Emergency Management. There, he would assist with the cleanup, establish relationships with families of lost loved ones, and work extremely late hours. For a kid in first grade, I was not pleased. Though it's another memory I cannot distinctly recall, I supposedly cried for my daddy at lunchtime, asking him to come home early again. If that's how I was, missing my dad who was working late to help all of these people, I could not even fathom the heartache and longing that others' conveyed after hearing their loved ones were gone or missing. There was no way to wrap your head around it.
The country came together. We had one motive: defeat this terrorism. We are a strong country, how could we be trampled on like this? We wouldn't stand for it. At the time, our identity was simply American. We did not turn our heads at religious, race, or gender identification differences. There was no time for that. We did not turn our backs or protest against police officers and first responders, but were thanking them endlessly for keeping us safe. I miss that world. Obviously, I don't miss what preceded it, but I miss the unified country we were. The patriotism we displayed. Now we face a world that does not even want to keep the Pledge of Allegiance around.
As the 15 year anniversary rolls around, I find myself reflective. My fondest memories of the Twin Towers was my family's visit up to the top, where lucky little six year old me was granted a hot dog for lunch. The best damn hot dog a little first grader could ever dream of. And guess what? A few months later that hot dog stand at the top of those towers was gone, along with family members and loved ones. Since then, we've rebuilt, and we are still reflective. We are still reminiscent. But we look forward to the future. We have built ourselves up again and must keep in mind the resiliency we held after 9/11. The attitude of not caring about being politically correct, but putting our safety as Americans first. We stood our ground, we showed them who is boss, and I pray to God we can find a way to do that again.
There are so many ways to remember these events. It can be solemn reflection, hopeful dreaming, or establishing a ceremony in memory of the day. It can be raising your American flag a little higher, putting your hand over your heart and singing the national anthem a little louder, and stating that you are proud to be an American. As this 15 year milestone comes and goes, may the memory of September 11th live on and forever inspire the way we pick ourselves up from tragedy. For no one shall erase you from the memory of time.
