Always Remember

 It doesn't matter how many years pass, I will always remember a day that changed everything. 

First thing in the morning, I was off to care for my horse, brushing him, cleaning his hooves, feeding him his grain and supplements, and talking to God. On the other side of the country things were changing, and I didn't know. I was oblivious. My usual routine was comfortably familiar.

One of the other horse owners arrived and told me this wild tale of a plane crashing into one of the Twin Towers. I thought she was trying to pull my leg. I didn't scoff or outright express disbelief, but I was leery of falling prey to a joke in poor taste. 

The owner of the property came out and said that a plane had hit the Pentagon as well. A second witness.

We wondered if a couple planes had gone off track. Accidents. They had to be accidents. They weren't.

I needed to pick up the dictation I did as a medical transcriber. I rolled down my window. The experience was surreal. Driving, other cars, going both ways, also had their windows rolled down, and I could hear the same radio broadcast I was listening to. First time ever, we were all tuned into the same thing. 

I couldn't bring myself to say anything at the office. How could I destroy their peaceful morning. It would end soon enough. By this time, the second Tower had been hit.

They reported the plane crashing in Pennsylvania. The moment they said it, I knew the passengers had made a different choice. I prayed for the families and friends left behind as I drove.

I was also scrambling with the knowledge that one of my acquaintances was an airline pilot. No one would report on which airlines were involved. The same information was being reported over and over, but it was all so vague. The last time we talked, one of his routes included the Northeast. I couldn't remember the details. I didn't own a cell phone yet. 

As soon as I arrived home, I called his cell. I expected to reach his voicemail, because he should have been flying. He answered. He was grounded in San Diego; his schedule had recently changed. He didn't know anymore than I did. It was later revealed that other airlines were involved. I felt guilty for being relieved. 

For days, I worked and watched television. I couldn't turn it off. I had to know. For the first time in my life, I felt connected to the world in a way I never had before or since.

Many of my friends lost friends and family. One of my cousins usually ate breakfast at Windows on the World, at the top of the Twin Towers. He was taking his parents to the airport that day. I heard about and read about numerous other lives saved in a similar manner. I remember watching the bodies fall and realizing they preferred to jump than burn to death. I remember thinking how crowded the hospitals would be and then learning that it was a case of either you made it or you didn't. 

Over the years, I've learned about the ferries that transported people and transported people and transported people. I learned about those who walked for miles. I learned about those who went down to ground zero and helped and helped and helped. I learned about the search dogs and how they sometimes "buried" firefighters so the dogs could find someone alive, about the boots that were donated for their paws, about the last working dog passing years later. 

I remember how people came together to help each other. Sadly, there were a few who added to the darkness rather than the light, but they were few. We hung a flag by our front door and kept the porch light on all night, from then on. Every year, I take time to grieve, pray, and remember and endeavor to live my life a little better. 

Field of Flags Memorial: A flag for every victim