September 11, 2001: 25 Years Later, We Remember

September 11, 2001: 25 Years Later, We Remember

Twenty five years ago, America woke up to an ordinary Tuesday morning.

By the end of that morning, our country and our lives had changed forever.

I was off work that day and sitting at home watching NBC’s Today morning show when the news broke that a plane had hit the World Trade Center.

My husband had just gone out of town with his job. My daughter was at work, and my little granddaughter was at daycare.

At first, there was confusion. We were looking at smoke pouring from the North Tower and trying to understand how something like this could possibly have happened.

American Airlines Flight 11 had struck the North Tower.

My daughter and the people she worked with were watching the news too. She and I were talking on the phone as the coverage continued.

Then, right before our eyes, United Airlines Flight 175 slammed into the South Tower.

We both saw it happen live on television.

In that instant, everything changed.

This was no terrible accident.

Americans were being killed.

We were under attack.

I cannot describe the shock of realizing that while watching it happen. My daughter and I were both in disbelief. There was fear because no one knew what was coming next or how far this attack would go.

My husband was out of town, my daughter was at work, and my granddaughter was at daycare.

My daughter and I agreed that I should go get my granddaughter and keep her close.

I got in my car and headed to the daycare.

As I drove, I saw a plane flying very low over our area. I believed it was United Airlines Flight 93, the plane that would later crash near Shanksville, Pennsylvania.

I remember looking at that plane with everything we had just witnessed running through my mind.

I just wanted to get to my granddaughter.

There are moments when your heart takes over. You want your children. You want your grandchildren. You want the people you love where you can reach them, touch them and know they are safe.

That was what mattered to me that morning.

Meanwhile, the nightmare continued.

American Airlines Flight 77 struck the Pentagon.

On United Airlines Flight 93, passengers and crew learned what had happened with the other hijacked planes. Knowing their own plane was part of the attack, they fought back against the hijackers.

Flight 93 crashed near Shanksville, Pennsylvania.

Those passengers and crew showed extraordinary courage. Their actions prevented the hijackers from reaching another target and taking even more innocent lives.

Then America watched the Twin Towers collapse.

Nearly 3,000 people were killed in the September 11 attacks.

They were people who went to work.

People traveling for business or pleasure.

People serving their country.

People answering emergency calls.

People who had families waiting for them at home.

And in the middle of that unimaginable horror, we saw some of the greatest acts of courage and humanity our country has ever witnessed.

While thousands were running away from danger, firefighters, police officers, paramedics and other first responders were running toward it.

They ran into burning buildings.

They climbed smoke filled stairways.

They carried the injured.

They guided frightened strangers toward safety.

They did not stop to ask who someone was, where they came from, what they believed or whether they knew them.

Someone needed help.

So they went.

And their sacrifice did not end on September 11.

We must also honor the firefighters, police officers, emergency workers, construction workers, recovery workers, volunteers and countless others who spent days, weeks and months working at Ground Zero and other affected sites.

The air was filled with enormous amounts of dust, debris and toxic substances from the destruction.

They breathed it.

It covered their clothes and skin.

They worked in it while searching for survivors, recovering those who had died, clearing debris and helping a devastated city begin to stand again.

Years passed, and many became seriously ill.

Cancers.

Respiratory diseases.

Other debilitating illnesses associated with their exposure.

Some have lived for years with those illnesses.

Others have died.

Their sacrifice deserves to be remembered alongside those we lost on September 11 itself.

Because not everyone who gave their life that day died that day.

Some carried September 11 inside their bodies for years afterward.

They went in to help when America needed them, without knowing what that decision might eventually cost them.

We owe them our remembrance.

We owe them our gratitude.

We owe their families the recognition that their suffering and sacrifice are also part of the story of September 11.

There were four hijacked planes that morning.

American Airlines Flight 11 struck the North Tower.

United Airlines Flight 175 struck the South Tower.

American Airlines Flight 77 struck the Pentagon.

United Airlines Flight 93 crashed near Shanksville after passengers and crew fought back.

Behind every flight number was a plane filled with human beings.

Behind every office window was someone’s loved one.

Behind every uniform was a person with a family waiting at home.

September 11 was meant to terrorize America.

Instead, amid the horror, Americans showed what courage and love look like.

Strangers carried strangers.

People opened their homes.

Americans gave blood.

Churches filled.

Flags appeared everywhere.

Families held one another tighter.

For a time, the things that divided us seemed so small compared with what united us.

We were Americans.

President George W. Bush faced the responsibility of leading a shocked and grieving nation after our country had been attacked. I believed then, and I believe today, that he did the right thing by standing strong for America and making it clear that those responsible for murdering our people would be held accountable.

Twenty five years later, September 11 is history to a generation that never experienced that morning.

For me, it never will be.

It was real.

I was sitting at home watching the Today morning show when the news broke.

My daughter and I were on the phone when we watched that second plane hit.

We knew Americans were being killed.

We knew our country was under attack.

And in that frightening uncertainty, my daughter and I made one simple decision.

Go get our little girl.

I drove to that daycare wanting nothing more than to bring my granddaughter home and hold her close.

Twenty five years later, I think about all the families who would have given anything for the same opportunity that evening.

One more hug.

One more phone call.

One more chance to say I love you.

That is what makes this anniversary so deeply personal.

We honor the nearly 3,000 souls taken from us that day.

We honor the passengers and crew of all four flights.

We honor the courage of Flight 93.

We honor those who died at the World Trade Center and the Pentagon.

We honor the firefighters, police officers and first responders who ran toward danger when every human instinct told them to run away.

And we honor those who survived September 11, worked through the devastation afterward, breathed that toxic air and paid a terrible price in the years that followed.

Some are still fighting.

Some are no longer here.

They are part of September 11 too.

Twenty five years later, may we remember not only how they died, but how they lived, how they loved and how so many chose to help another human being in the worst moments imaginable.

May we teach our children and grandchildren what happened that day.

May we teach them about the hatred that attacked America, but also about the courage that answered it.

May we teach them about the people who ran in.

May we teach them about the people who fought back.

May we teach them about the people who stayed behind to search, recover, rebuild and help a wounded nation heal.

And may we never take for granted the blessing of being able to hold the people we love close.

Twenty five years later, America remembers.

God bless those we lost.

God bless those still suffering.

God bless the families who have carried these losses for a quarter of a century.

God bless our first responders and our military.

And God bless America.

We will never forget.