Eight Years

So this morning I woke up and turned on the news and was just in time for the marking of the first plane hitting the World Trade Centers.

Just yesterday I had been thinking to myself, why? Why do we mark this time every year? Why do we put ourselves through it? Why "celebrate" the anniversary of such a horrible and tragic piece of our history.

But then I watched the news as President and Mrs. Obama walked out of the White House and stood silently, heads bowed for a moment of silence, then placed hands over heart as Taps played. The tears ran down my face and I realized, yes, yes, we still have to mark this date. Yes, it's important to remember the loss. The devastation. The fear. The humanity. The love and strength as well.

So here is my "where were you?" remembrance.

We were living in Colorado Springs. Brent had already left for work and I was taking Christopher to school. I didn't watch the morning news or listen to the radio while getting ready so it was a really normal morning until Christopher and I got in the car. The radio was on low but I was catching snippets of the broadcast. As everything started to filter through I told Christopher to hush for a moment, it sounded like maybe a bomb had gone off somewhere. I immediately thought of Oklahoma City and the bombing there, remembered watching it on the news and then being horrified as that story unfolded.

Things were still very confused as I dropped Christopher off at school and made my way to work. I was listening to the news on the radio, someone reporting from New York City as they watched the second plane hit the other tower. Now we knew that this was an attack. This was planned. I can remember feeling sick to my stomach. I made it to work. At the time I was working for USA Boxing on the US Olympic Compound in Colorado Springs. There was a gate at the front but it was never locked. The guard tower was manned by one person whose main job was to direct tourists to the museum or newly arriving athletes to orientation areas. As I drove onto campus that day the guard in the shack was sitting staring at his radio in shock.

As I made my way into the office I walked through deserted hallways past empty desks and I thought..This isn't real. This can't be real. I found everyone crowded into our break room watching the news. Tears on some faces, shock and disbelief all around. We were watching the news as the Pentagon was hit. Still watching when the first tower fell. Mike our CEO had been in NYC the week before. Had been in the Towers. As the South Tower fell he placed his head in his hands and began to cry. Andy went to her desk and began trying to call her brother. He worked in the North tower. The phones lines were overloaded and she couldn't place the call. We spent the day glued to the set, watching in disbelief as the reports came in of flight 93 crashing in the field in Pennsylvania. Watched in horror as the second tower collapsed. Watched over and over as they showed video of the Towers collapsing. The people jumping from the buildings. The devastation. It was unreal.

Those of us with kids in school tried to decide what we should do, do you go pick up your child or leave them in class? Do you go home or stay at work? What do you do? Andy spent the day on the phone trying to reach her brother. Finally right before we all gave up and left for the day she heard from her sister who had reached him. He had overslept that day due to a dead battery in an alarm clock. He was cursing his bad luck at being so very late to work when he heard about the attack. His dead battery ended up most likely saving his life.

Colorado Springs is home to NORAD. There were reports that the President and or the Vice President might be evacuated to the Mountain. I wasn't sure if that made me feel safer or more insecure. School was canceled for the week. Work was closed for the next few days as the powers that be tried to decide if the US Olympic center would be a target. When it did reopen the gates were closed, there were two guards in the guard tower and no one made it on Campus without an ID. Flights all across the United States had been grounded but when you live in the shadow of NORAD, the Air Force Academy, a military base and the flight path for Denver International Airport you really notice the silence in the skies when the planes are no more.

We turned off the TV that night. Couldn't stand to watch it anymore. And it stayed off for awhile. But it's burned into my memory. The pictures. The images. The fear. The panic. The ripping apart of our veil of safety. But then what came next helped to put all of us back together again. The stories like Andy's brother. Where what seemed like bad luck turned out to be not so unlucky after all. The stories of heroism from the first responders. The NYPD, NYFD, the paramedics, the people on the street who just wanted to help. The brave people of Flight 93 who knew their lives were forfeit, and so they chose to save so many more. The way the rest of the world came to us, offered us help and condolences. The world felt our pain and cried with us on that day. We the people, not just of the United States of America but of the World felt the loss.

So I say, yes, we need to mark the day. But hold it in your heart as a reminder that we are strong. We are all united. Bad guys are just that, bad guys. And they shouldn't win. And there are more of us than there are of them. So remember. But don't be confused as to what you are remembering. Strength, love, compassion, the after. Don't mark the death, mark the life.