Remembering 9/11

On the morning of September 11 2001, I was sitting at my desk at work trying to get caught up on some paperwork. Our receptionist informed me that I had a phone call; I picked up my phone and greeted the caller. It was my mother, and she said she was calling all of her kids just to tell us that she loved us. While I thought this was sweet, it also struck me as a little odd. I asked, "Is everything okay, Mom?" She asked if I had heard about the plane that crashed into the World Trade Center. I told her I had heard something about it, and I figured it was a small privately owned plane being piloted by someone who didn't quite know what they were doing. I mean really---how else could you explain an airplane accidentally running into the tallest building in the United States? This was the only explanation that was comprehensible to me. Mom then informed me that two planes had flown into the World Trade Center, and another plane had just crashed into the Pentagon. Mom said "I think we're under attack." I told Mom that I loved her, and I quickly hung up and went downstairs to the offices there to watch the news on television.

Co-workers, patients, and family members had already gathered around the television. Not a word was being spoken. Each person was staring blankly at the television screen as they watched the towers burning. I joined them and stared silently at the television as the CNN crew reported on the events unfolding in front of us. When the first tower collapsed, my heart simply broke. Up until that moment, I had hope that there would be more survivors than fatalities. I said out loud (to no one in particular) "I wonder how many people just died?" When the second tower collapsed, I started to cry and I had to walk away from the television.

I went home to my apartment for lunch because I wanted to call my friend who lived in the NYC suburbs and worked in Manhattan. I called her home number and was pleasantly surprised (and thrilled!) to hear her voice when she answered the phone. She had not gone to work that day, and she was home with her sons. Thankfully, she had already spoken with her husband (who also worked in Manhattan) and her brother (who worked and lived in Manhattan). They were both okay, but it didn't look like her hubby would be able to get out of Manhattan that day, so he was going to spend the night with his brother-in-law. I remember her voice sounded flat and sad.

I went back to work, but I was pretty useless for the rest of the day. We all were. One of my co-workers had a son who worked in the financial district, and we were all on edge until she finally received a phone call from him near the end of the workday. We were all relieved to know that he was safe.

I remember feeling sad and depressed for the rest of the day and for a few weeks afterwards. September 11 is a sad day for me. I watch the documentaries on The History Channel each year so that I can remember and reflect. Eight years later, the impact of that horrible day hits me just as hard as it did in 2001. I feel like it's my duty and my responsibility to remember and think about everyone who died in NYC, Washington DC, and Shanksville PA, as well as the survivors.

Start Spreadin' The News...

My upcoming trip to NYC will soon be upon me...I'm leaving Saturday morning. I'm very excited! NYC is my favorite place to be!

I checked the seating diagram for my flights, and it looks as if the flight up is a full one. Sigh. I always secretly hope that the seat next to me will be empty. Coach seating is so cramped, I consider it to be a special treat if I can have a row all to myself. However, it looks as if my wish will come true for the flight home...so far.

I'm not sure what exactly we'll be doing over the weekend, other than attending a cookout on Saturday. However, my friend, Brooke--with whom I'll be staying--and I managed to score tickets to the night session on Day 1 (Monday Aug 25) of the U.S. Open Tennis Championship tournament! I am so excited about this that I can hardly breathe when I think about it! I have wanted to go to the U.S. Open since I was about twelve years old, so a childhood wish is finally coming true!

Brooke has to work during the day on Monday, so I'll be on my own. I just booked a great walking tour of lower Manhattan...Ground Zero. Whenever I visit NYC, I feel a need to reflect on 9/11. While the rest of the world may have emotionally detached seven years later, NYC is still grieving. And how can they not be? There are reminders everywhere.

A firehouse located near the apartment I rented last summer. The plaques you see on the front right wall each represent a member of this squad who died on 9/11.

After my tour, I'll probably go say 'hello' to the Statue of Liberty since I'll be in the neighborhood anyway.

On Tuesday, I'll fly home, and my adventure will be over. For now, anyway.

I'll be traveling with my laptop and posting tales from my trip. Stay tuned!

A Harsh Reminder

When this "war" in Iraq began way back in 2003, I was acutely aware of America's presence there. CNN and other news channels were filling the airwaves for seemingly 24 hours a day with news and images of the violence there. American flags and yellow ribbons were prominent. My baby brother was in the US Marine Corps, and he subsequently served two tours there. I was sending care packages to him, as well as to troops whom I knew weren't receiving packages of their own. I had a yellow ribbon magnet on my car that read "Protect My Brother". I could not get enough news about the what was happening there...I was watching CNN constantly. I eventually had to take a break from CNN because I found myself becoming agitated, depressed, and suffering from nightmares as a result of Iraq news overload. How could I not be caught up in the "support the troops" fervor?

As this conflict now drags into its sixth year, I find that my thoughts and attention are rarely focused on Iraq. My brother has since then been transferred to a training squadron---a non-deploying squadron. My family has a temporary reprieve from the constant threat of his return to Iraq. My yellow ribbon magnet was removed in a celebratory nature when my brother came home; I think it might be somewhere in my trunk right now...? CNN no longer gives Iraq their full attention. I haven't sent a care package in about a year now. Embarrassingly, I must confess that I have become entirely too accustomed to the situation in Iraq...and the troops who remain there have been drifting further and further from my mind.

I received a subtle yet powerful reminder last weekend when I traveled to Jacksonville NC to visit my brother, who is now stationed at Camp Lejeune, and his wife. I'm a history buff, and I love to visit monuments and statues. My sister-in-law knows this about me, and she offered to take me to see the Beirut Memorial in Jacksonville. Up until the moment she asked me, I had no idea that such a memorial even existed. I eagerly accepted her invitation. The monument consists primarily of a wall, referred to as "The Other Wall", in which the names of each of the troops who died in Beirut in 1983-84 are etched. There is also a beautiful statue of a Marine in his combat gear.

Also on display at this same park is something that I was completely unprepared to see---a steel beam from one of the NYC twin towers that crumbled to the ground on 9/11/01. As I drew closer to it, suddenly all my memories of that horrible day came flooding back in full force---the moment I realized that the plane crashes were part of some sinister plot rather than freakish accidents...watching live feed from CNN and watching the two towers collapse and wondering how many people just died right in front of my eyes...wondering where the next plane would fall. I examined the beam closely, and the extent of the impact and damage that had obviously been inflicted upon it was mind blowing. As I was taking photographs from various angles, my sister-in-law discovered two sets of military dog tags that were hanging from one of the warped rivets. We were initially perplexed as we bemoaned how foolish it was to leave your dog tags in a public place since they clearly contain your social security number, and wouldn't it be easy to steal this person's identity, yada yada yada...and then the sad realization dawned upon both of us at the same time----the owners of these dog tags were probably dead. We looked at each other sadly and wondered aloud about the intended meaning of hanging the tags at this particular site.

Though no discernible connection has been established between 9/11 and Saddam Hussein, I think that 9/11 does serve as a symbol of our troops' presence in Iraq. I suspect that these dog tags belonged to a couple of Marines who died there, and someone quietly memorialized them by hanging the tags from the WTC beam.

This was a sobering moment for me, and I felt ashamed for having all but forgotten about the men and women who continue to serve in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Regardless of how we might feel about the "war" itself, it is imperative that we remember the men and women who are serving there. They are there out of a sense of pride and duty; but they are also hot, exhausted, homesick, and witnessing violence that most of us could not imagine even in our worst nightmares. We must also remember the military families who are left behind and who, in my opinion, make just as big of a sacrifice as the troops themselves. We must remember the troops who are coming home with horrible injuries, disfigurements, and scars---not only the physical ones, but the emotional ones as well.

Here are some ideas about how we can put "support the troops" into practice:

http://www.anysoldier.com/

http://www.militaryfamilysupport.org/

https://www.woundedwarriorproject.org/component/option,com_frontpage/Itemid,840/