Remembering 9/11

The memory of that morning is indelibly imprinted on my mind. I was still in bed, not really awake. I heard my dad leave for work, and then just a short time later rush in and turn on the TV. A little alarm signal went off in my head. He did the same thing after the Oklahoma bombing. I stumbled out to the TV where my parents were watching something that looked like it belonged in a movie. The Twin Towers (I barely knew what they were) were billowing smoke. The news men and women were looking very harried, repeating the only information they knew: that planes had flown into the Tower. Of course this was happening three hours ahead of us, but it was live coverage. Time seemed to stop as we gazed in horror at the spectacle before our eyes. Then, as if in slow motion, one of the towers collapsed in a pile of billowing smoke and rubble. Not long after, so did the other one. NYC was in an uproar. I cried silently as the realization hit me that so many lives were being obliterated or changed forever. It was obvious the world would never be the same. Then we heard about the Pentagon and the other flight in Pennsylvania. What would be next? I stayed anchored to the TV most of the day and watched the continuing drama. I cancelled my homeschool choir rehearsal, and had to inform several families what had happened because they hadn't heard.

I can't believe it's already been five years. So much has happened in the world. But two things are certain: we must never forget and we must never give up the war on terrorism, even if it seems like a never ending conflict. God bless our troops, God bless our president, and God bless those families of the lost that are remembering this day.