By the time you read this, September 11 of this year has come and gone. As an older 'millennial,' I can honestly say that I have traveled to nine countries and three-fourths of the states but never have stepped foot in New York. Instead, it seems that New York came to me. This didn't happen by choice and maybe it has hindered my travels to New York City. I'm not afraid and I usually can let some things go.

However, there is something about September 11 that is so solemn that I can't even really imagine stepping foot on Ground Zero without flopping to the concrete in a puddle of sobbing tears.The tragedy that occurred 15 years ago is etched into my mind forever. And yes, I still cry and I try to watch videos to help me cope with the idea of what our country went through.

I remember growing up and my parents remembering where they were when John F. Kennedy was shot. A huge travesty in that day and time, of course. But I couldn't understand then how they could remember exactly what they were doing at that exact time. Fast forward to September 11, 2016 and 15 years later, I can tell you exactly what I was doing. Many of us seasoned millennials probably all can and we all have a different story. Remembering exactly where you were during a nationwide tragedy is definitely real.

For me, it was a Tuesday and I had just gotten out of the shower to go to my freshman English class. A girl from down the hall said good morning while we visited in our hall community bathroom and then asked me if I had heard about the plane that crashed into the building in New York City? What? No way! What idiot pilot flew right into a building? That was my first thought...I won't lie.

But as I flipped on the news that morning, I was shocked by what I was seeing and saw for myself the coverage of the second plane crashing into the World Trade Center live on television. Reporters were appalled and I think that every viewer probably had the same reaction. Just what the hell were we seeing transpire?

Well, I remember attending that English class, not even really understanding but knowing that something wasn't right. Instead of learning that day about English composition and literature, I think we instead learned a more valuable lesson. My English class was canceled after moments of sitting in the seat but my teacher, an amazing TA, seemed to have a little bit greater understanding and told us we could either leave class or sit and watch but she felt like that having class was completely unnecessary and decided there were better things we needed to be doing that day. I remember the horror on her face and instead of going back to the dorm I had lived in for a whole three weeks, four hours away from family and loved ones, I was surrounded by strangers who I took comfort in being around while this tragedy unfolded before our eyes.

While some might have gone back to bed and rejoiced in classes for the rest of the day being canceled, being a college student during September 11, 2001 simply wasn't like that at all. Everyone I can think of was glued to the news. I received a phone call from a friend who asked me to please go with her to the gas station because she needed to fill up because it was believed to be oil-related and inflation of gas prices was to be expected. I remember we sat in her Dodge Avenger and waited in line to get gas for over 45 minutes. The gas station, just situated directly across from campus, had the longest line for gasoline I had ever seen. Of course, the prices were going up by the minute but everyone was getting gas out of fear that it would go above and beyond $5 a gallon. I remember even snapping a photo of the long line behind us because it was just unreal.

Going back to campus, it wasn't the joyous fun atmosphere college campuses generally are. In a large city of several thousands of people in Springfield, Missouri, it was like a desolate ghost town. No one was out walking around. There were warnings to stay in and stay safe. There was the intuition to call family and loved one and tell them you loved them. I am sure my parents were more terrified than I was. I was a young and naive 18-year-old, ready to embark on the world. And though I wasn't a frightened little mouse at the time, I probably should have been. I'm probably even more reflective and somber on September 11 now than I even was then because of the respect I have for those who were there and those who have fought and for those who did perish.

Now, with every year that passes, I have a best friend whose daughter was born on September 11. While it should be a joyous day for her, I think deep in our hearts there is still a strange sense of solemness. It is a tough day to feel happiness, even 15 years later. It seems to be a day to just want to sit back and reflect. It is a feeling that is completely indescribable and honestly, probably even my first true look at politics.

Mayor Rudy Giuliani of New York City seemed to handle the situation with grace which is completely unbelievable considering the cards his city had been dealt. I know George Bush, Jr. was probably doing his best at maintaining some sort of control of mass panic but he just didn't hold a candle to Mayor Rudy. He reassured the people of New York and also stood strong trying to comfort the families of those who lost loved ones in not just the attack on the World Trade Center, but also the NYPD and the New York Fire Department. True heroes were born and died all within the same day.

The strangest part is that no matter where I went, there was someone who knew someone who was either on a plane, supposed to be on one of those planes or had someone in New York that day. My brother's friend was an attorney in the WTC. She was saved by a dentist appointment. Never had anyone ever been so grateful to be at the dentist, I'm certain.

There was not just mass chaos and panic, but there was also mass sadness. I think that is the hardest thing to really describe to this day. I wasn't there. It didn't directly leave an effect on me. However, if anyone ever had a single ounce of patriotism, it was magnified by a thousand all within those few short (yet longest ever) hours.

You see, there was not a single ounce of racism or segregation or hate for one another. It was the biggest tragedy to bring Americans together that one could ever experience. It didn't matter who you were. If you were an American, you just got it. You felt an overwhelming pride, sadness and fear all at the same time. Even describing it seems impossible because unless you were old enough to understand it, you can't and honestly, you never will.

I could write an entirely different piece on my belief in the conspiracy behind 9/11, the government and politics. But I won't. Those who died in New York in the World Trade Center or were passengers in the planes, or were on the ground helping save others, or were in Pennsylvania and the Pentagon don't deserve that kind of tribute. They deserve the ultimate respect and I will save my conspiracy theories for another day.

Regardless of the year, September 11 is no longer just a date. For those of us who truly understood what was happening that day, it never will be again. In fact, I dread September 11 still to this day...but I also respect what the date represents. God bless America and even if the people of the nation refuse to acknowledge that it has in fact been a decade and a half since it seemed the world would stop spinning, those of us who do remember, will continue to do so.

In memory of those who perished on September 11, 2001 and since then, in the fight against the war on terrorism. Always stay vigilant.

And most of all, "Never Forget." Take a moment and reflect. Where were you that September morning?