We all remember exactly where we were when we heard the news that would shape the future of our lives. I remember my mom coming in to tell me what had happened, and truthfully, I had no comprehension of what it really meant.
I remember getting to school for class and every single teacher I have saying I couldn’t watch the news when I asked because “you were seeing it in every other class,” and I remember sneaking out of 5th period English to go to the library so I could watch the news and fully understand what was going on.
I remember going to New York the next year for a Fashion Merchandising field trip and visiting the site. I remember it was raining, and I remember how cold and scary it all felt. I remember thinking I’d never live in New York after that trip.
I remember working in the Financial District last year during the 10th anniversary, and the cops searching every vehicle and how truly terrified I actually was to go to work.
I remember listening to the stories of my boyfriends experiences living in the East Village at that time, and the stories of my coworkers who had lived through it the first time, and then worked on the 9/11 movie, and how devastating it was to even pretend to relive that experience.
Every year on this day, I get very quiet, very pensive, and very thankful. Suddenly, everything else seems so trivial, and I remember how thankful I am that we have people who care enough about this great city to fight for it, to fight for our freedom, and to remember those who were not so lucky on that fateful day. I’ll always remember them, and I am so truly thankful to be where I am today and know I would not be here if it weren’t for the truly brave people that were here during that time.