I can't believe it's been 9 years since the horrible terrorist attacks on September 11.
I was a freshman in high school, and I remember that my best friend Matt's older sister Rose told us what was happening. At that point, only one tower had been hit. It didn't make sense at all—and we heard the news in passing. There was still a lot of excitement—not the good kind, but rather the unsure, chattering kind—and confusion about what was happening in New York. My assumption was that there had been an accident. I never would have imagined that that plane had crashed into the tower on purpose.
The first part of the day is hazy, I don't remember much about it because at that point there was nothing particularly special about it. If I remember correctly, my first one or two classes went on as usual. The teachers were no doubt being updated on the situation, but the magnitude of the events was still unclear.
I remember thinking about how my Dad was supposed to be in New York the following week, and how glad I was that he wasn't there when it happened.
Thinking about it now isn't really any easier. I still feel so sad for those who lost loved ones.
God bless the firefighters and officers who risked their lives, and God bless those who lost their lives, lost family members, loved ones. I pray we don't have another attack like this in the country I love.
I hope everyone will take a moment today and remember those lost.