It’s easy for me to do a lot of thinking when the eleventh of September approaches. The attacks on the World Trade Center and Pentagon, now eight years ago, had a profound impact on my upbringing, and the country as a whole. I recall (and remember that I was eleven years old at the time) my mom and her friend contemplating how to get down to New York City from Carmel, New York, where I lived at the time, to see how they could help. Trained as a Registered Nurse, my mom was frustrated when the media urged citizens not to travel to the city to help.
As I went to sleep that night, I knew the world had changed forever. However, I was at an age where I was not old enough to fully grok the implications of that day, as it happened. The course of events that was set off has dictated national and international politics from that day forward, and obviously, stole loved ones from the people of the United States and the world. Living so close to the city, I still get emotional when I think about the day in terms of personal and human tragedy, rather than history and politics, and I’ve brought myself to tears in writing this post.
Today, feelings are complicated, as the grief and ramifications of September 11, 2001 are swept further into the past. The United States will never fully recover from the attacks, and they’ll be with me for the rest of my life.
I cannot help but recall a powerful experience I had in my high school two years ago. A year ago from today, I reposted my recounting of that experience. I’ve elected to repost it again, because I find its narrative compelling.
I had an intense experience this morning, and I’ll never forget it. At Dover Middle/High School, HS Student Council members have to say the pledge and read the morning’s announcements each day. This month is my assigned month (and some other people’s), and I had an additional duty this morning. Directly after saying the pledge, I was to instruct the student body to remain standing for a moment of silence to remember everyone impacted or stolen from us six years ago.
While reciting the pledge and this unique announcement, I became very emotional. I was certain that I would be fine before doing it, but upon saying, “I pledge,” I felt immensely sad. Completing sentences was painful, and I’m amazed that I was able to finish the task without stopping completely.
It was obvious that I was troubled by the task, but people were kind enough not to say anything to me about it. I wish I didn’t have to do that this morning. To a much greater extent, I wish no one had to.
The fact that no one ever commented on my emotional stumbling over the pledge that day resonates with me. Those moments of shared understanding are rare and powerful.
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If you’re looking for something else to read today, I highly recommend this post from Christopher Penn.