I have written about my personal experience on 9/11 before. I was living in northern New Jersey and I was president of the Sparta Friends and Neighbors Club, and we were just starting our regular monthly meeting – on that beautiful blue skied morning. All our kids were back to school after summer vacation. Ten minutes or so into the meeting lots of cellphones started ringing and we quickly found out something big and bad was happening. After just a few more minutes of us all hearing the news we decided it best to quickly end the meeting and for everyone to go home, to check on loved ones (our town was only one hour outside of NYC), and to spend the next hours praying while we watched it all unfold on TV.
I stayed behind for awhile because the Sparta Friends and Neighbors meeting took place in my church fellowship hall. I knew the church secretary well, and she and I and a few others watched a big screen TV in the hall. It was there that I saw the second plane go into the second twin tower.
The days and weeks that followed that day were spent seeing over and over the horrible images from all the locations where the planes went. The World Trade Center (which I had been in not that long before, up on the top floor), the Pentagon outside of DC, and the field in the middle of Pennsylvania.
Heroic stories emerged. Incredibly sad ones too. There were so many of both. My local NJ newspaper had whole sections of obituaries. I made a point to read each one. I felt it was important to know these people who were innocent victims, most living their lives and off to work for the morning. It was important also to know the names of the first responders, the fire and police men and women who went running in. Some never came out. And, there were those incredibly brave people on the plane that went down in Pennsylvania, knowing that it was headed for more destruction and they had to stop it. And here we are now 20 years later, knowing there were long term effects on those that survived the attacks and made it through that horrible day – incredibly affected, physically, emotionally, and mentally. It was a life changing day for everyone.
Tomorrow is the 20th anniversary of 9/11. I don’t really like calling it an anniversary because it brings to mind a happy event. For sure it was not. Maybe tomorrow is better called the 20th year of remembrance of that day. That sounds more appropriate.
I was planning to play my flute with the community band in a 9/11 observance concert tonight at a local church. But, i have a sore throat and cold symptoms and even though it’s not CoVid I am staying home and not participating. I dont want to spread my germs that might make another get sick, and perhaps have lower defenses in fighting off CoVid. So, I plan to stay home.
Tonight and tomorrow I know that there are TV specials and other local events scheduled to acknowledge the day. Some people say we can’t forget what happened. Some say we need to show our children what happened. Some want to rightly honor the responders, the helpers, and all those who put one foot in front of another when it was really hard to do. There was so much pain among so many families looking for the missing, and seeing the absolute destruction of famous landmarks in our country. I know I never felt safe living there after that day, and I wanted to move out of the NJ-NY area. OH, I went back into the city. In fact my hubby, daughters, and I went back on the Friday after because we had theatre tickets and the then Mayor Of NYC Guilani asked people to come in and get back to life. So we went – but it was weird. Eerie. Smoke was still rising and could be seen for miles. The smell was in the air. Photos were posted outside fire stations – along with black bunting. I don’t remember the Broadway show we saw but I do remember that the whole cast came out on stage at the end, and we all stood up and sang “God Bless America.”
Tomorrow I will again reflect on that day 20 years ago. It really doesn’t seem like it was all that long ago. It’s one of those dates that a person will always remember where they were, who they were with, and how frightened they felt. It was a time when TV news reacted and covered it all without opinion or rhetoric. There was no time for politics. It was raw. It was extremely emotional. It was ”live” and we went through it together. I am already seeing people posting pictures on Facebook from that day. I hope they understand that it can be upsetting to some to see them and then have to relive the horror of that day. Even 20 years later. It’s not something I can ever forget.
Marla’s Musings 