I can't believe it's been eight years since 9/11 happened.
It feels like a lifetime has passed, but as I look at the pictures today from that day it really doesn't seem like long at all.
I hope that I never forget that day. I hope that we as a nation never forgets that day. I know it's easy for us to sit here now and say that we will never forget, but how old was I before I realized the importance of December 7th? The day that Pearl Harbor was attacked was a huge day in history for my grandparents and great grandparents, but to my parents generation and my own it is just another day to memorize in history class.
On September 11, 2001 I was a junior in college. Sam and I had been dating for about four months and I was just getting acquainted with all things military. I was living in the dorms still and since the 11th landed on a Tuesday I didn't have class until 10:30 so I was sleeping when the towers were hit. I was woken up by the phone ringing and Sam on the other end telling me that the United States was under attack.
I laughed at him. I told him that some radio station was playing some sick joke on him (he was driving in the car when he found out). Then, just to prove him wrong I turned on the radio in my dorm room (no t.v.). There was a song playing so I knew that nothing terrible could have happened because a radio station would not have been playing music if the United States was truly under attack.
But, as I slowly woke up more and poked my head out into the hallway I realized that things were indeed happening in New York.
I didn't know how to react. I remember praying a lot. I remember comforting people as we all just cried. I also remember showering and going to class like usual because I didn't know what else to do.
I made sure that I didn't watch any t.v. on September 11th because I did not want the images engraved into my brain. For that, I am grateful to myself. It may have been a selfish thing, but I am glad that I didn't see anyone jumping out of the buildings. I watched the news the next day after they edited all of that. I know that I couldn't have handled any of that.
I found my journal from that day. Here are some things I wrote.
It's crazy, everyone is walking around very solemn. All I can hear in conversations are things about what has been going on... I have been on the phone with Sam off and on all morning. He was on his way to Winterset, but came back. A little part of me, no matter how irrational it sounds, is afraid that Sam will have to get involved. That would only happen if we went to war and if we were desperate, but it's still a fairly scary thought.
How odd is it that four years after I wrote that journal entry Sam was deployed to Iraq?