The popular question this anniversary is such: Where were you on September 11, 2001?
I was 14. I was sleeping soundly in my bed when I remember my mom burst through my door, "Megan wake up, a plane hit the World Trade Center. This is a big deal." She opened my blinds to let my room flood with light and then exited. I remember laying there with my eyes still closed thinking in my half-awake state "What? Trade Center? Like stocks? Does she mean wallstreet?" As bizarre as that sounds, remember, I was only 14 and was not familiar with the buildings in NY.
From the time it took me to get up and get downstairs the other plane had already hit the other tower. I never saw a live view of the planes hitting the towers. I saw the "recap" of each building swallowing the airliners hundreds of times though. I remember trying to piece together the sketchy information they were receiving minute by minute. Reports of an explosion at the Pentagon, smoke seen billowing from a wooded area in Pennsylvania...one thing I recall quite clearly was "My God, what next?"
I saw the buildings fall one by one on the screen. I heard the screams and saw the horror on the people's faces. Right before the towers collapse, I saw the people jump. I didn't fully understand why it happened and what it meant, not only for the present time, but for the months and years to follow.
Al Qaeda took gladly took full responsibility. Osama Bin Laden was then hunted for almost 10 years and was recently killed. While most American rejoiced in his death, I believe in a statement I read from a friend of mine a few weeks ago...when we want justice we really want judgement. I hope Bin Laden received the most serious of judgments.
We have made progress. We have healed some, but I don't think we will forget, we will just adapt. We will accept the fact that we live in a world where anything and anyone could be used to kill us. They have baseless motives and an unsettling honor in dying while taking the lives of others.
Above is a bracelet I made 10 years ago following the few days after September 11. (I believe it is the second one I made for the first broke.) I wore everyday until the first anniversary. I wanted some small way to show my support and patriotism. I tucked it away in my jewelry box until this past week. I am wearing it again and will plan to do so every anniversary to remember the lives lost and the changed country.
I do have a notebook full of newspaper clips, emails, pictures, poems and other memorabilia I am still trying to locate. I can recall some of my collection and will share some of it with you now. I will also post some new things I came across that touched my heart. God Bless America.
Lady Liberty
I wonder what she thought As she stood there, strong and tall. She couldn't turn away,
She was forced to watch it all.
Did she long to offer comfort As her country bled? With her arm forever frozen
High above her head.
She could not shield her eyes She could not hide her face She just stared across the water
Keeping Freedom's place.
The smell of smoke and terror Somehow reduced her size So small within the harbor
But still we recognized...
How dignified and beautiful On a day so many died
I wonder what she thought,
And I know she must have cried.
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My Name is Old Glory
I am the flag of the United States of America
My name is Old Glory.
I fly atop the world's tallest buildings.
I stand watch in America's halls of justice.
I fly majestically over great institutes of learning.
I stand guard with the greatest military power in the world.
Look up! And see me!
I stand for peace, honor, truth, and justice.
I stand for freedom.
I am confident . . . I am arrogant.
I am proud.
When I am flown with my fellow banners,
my head is a little higher,
my colors a little truer.
I bow to no one.
I am recognized all over the world.
I am worshipped.
I am saluted.
I am respected.
I am revered. I am loved.
And I am feared.
I have fought every battle of every war for more than 200 years...
Gettysburg, Shilo, Appomatox, San Juan Hill, the trenches of France,
the Argonne Forest, Anzio, Rome, the beaches of Normandy,
the deserts of Africa, the cane fields of the Philippines,
the rice paddies and jungles of Guam, Okinawa, Japan, Korea, Vietnam,
and a score of places long forgotten by all but those who were with me.
I was there!
I led my soldiers.
I followed them.
I watched over them...
They loved me.I was on a small hill in Iwo Jima.
I was dirty, battle-worn and tired,
but my soldiers cheered me,
and I was proud.
I have been soiled, burned, torn and trampled on the streets of countries
I have helped set free.
It does not hurt . . . for I am invincible.
I have been soiled, burned, torn and trampled on the streets of my country,
and when it is by those with whom I have served in battle . . . it hurts.
But I shall overcome . . . for I am strong.
I have slipped the bonds of Earth
and stand watch over the uncharted new frontiers of space
from my vantage point on the moon.
I have been a silent witness to all of America's finest hours.
But my finest hour comes
when I am torn into strips to be used for bandages
for my wounded comrades on the field of battle.
when I fly at half mast to honor my soldiers...
and when I lie in the trembling arms
of a grieving mother at the graveside of her fallen son.
I am proud.
My name is Old Glory.
Dear God . . . Long may I wave!
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We will always remember.
M.LEWIS
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