I cannot even begin to imagine what it would have been like to be in New York City eleven years ago. I can only assume that the confusion, craziness, and total chaos that consumed New York was 100 times worse than what Times Square is on a busy day. But after living here for a year, seeing the memorial, and meeting people directly affected by the attacks, the clouds of confusion have lifted and the arising Freedom Tower means so much more to me.

I was eight years old, just settling my energetic self into a chair in Mrs. Friedman’s third grade class at Newington Forest Elementary in Northern Virginia when the first plane struck. A mere hour later I was slinking down in that same chair, a knot in my stomach, and huge large tears swelling up in my hazel eyes after watching footage and being alerted that our country had been attacked by terrorists. On September 11, 2001 my life (along with the entire world’s) drastically changed.

At that moment in time, my eight year old self was completely bewildered as to why people wanted to hurt Americans. After the news announcement came on, kids were pulled from class. By 3:35 that afternoon I was one of seven kids left in the third grade. I rode the empty bus back home, held my little sister’s hand and came home to my mom sitting on our living room table, eyes glued to the TV, faced stained with tears, and shaking. She took us both sat us down and said we needed to talk. The first thought that flew through my head was that my Dad was at the Pentagon that day. I began to cry uncontrollably. Even though he was across the country on a business trip, I had assumed the worst. Thank the Lord everything was okay.

The rest of that day was a blur. A flurry of people came in and out of our house, the phone was ringing off the hook, and the TV blared in the corner. The replay of the planes hitting the Twin Towers was forever imprinted into my mind. American flags lined my street for months, Red Cross Blood Trucks were everywhere and stories of countless heroes risking their lives replayed for what seemed like eternity.  Never in my time, both on and off military bases have I witnessed an overwhelming amount of patriotism, support for those lost, and selflessness out of so many Americans.

I was told that September 11th will be a day forever remembered, written about in history books, much like Pearl Harbor, but it has come to be so much more. Yes, it has been squished into U.S. history textbooks, in-between the Cold War and the glossary of the text. But it has become so much more than a picture and a few words on the last page of a book. September 11th has become a sign of strength and unity for our country, a sign of freedom, and above all a sign of resilience to those wishing to bring us down.

It is a day that will be a permanent part of those who were alive on September 11th, 2001, but September 11th is a day forever imprinted upon the hearts of Americans everywhere. We will stand together forever. United.

God bless America and God bless all of those who have given their lives.

On the walk back home