Never Forget . . .

The memories of that morning still resonate in my mind as if it was just yesterday that I was living them. I'll never forget driving McKenna and Delaney to their elementary school (M was in 4th grade, D was in kindergarten) and then hearing on my favorite morning radio show that something had happened in New York City and it looked like one of the World Trade Centers was on fire.

I rushed home, turned on the television, and soon was anxiously watching each event unfold. The events seemed to happen at a break-neck pace--a second plane crashing into the other tower (and seeing it live on the televisoin), the first tower's collapse (I remember saying out loud, "How can the tower be coming down?"), then the other tower's collapse, a crash at the Pentagon, a crash in a field in Pennsylvania. It was as if my whole body was tightened up, waiting for the next tragedy to happen. And then, it stopped . . . and then reality began to set in.

Probably what I remember most from that day--and then the week afterwards--was just the neverending crying. I cried myself to sleep each night, imagining the terror of the victims and the sadness of their families. The image of the victims' pictures hanging up on subway walls and city streets; the recordings of their frantic phone calls to their spouses and parents, telling them that they loved them. Everything made me terribly sad, and I wished it would just go away. But it didn't . . .

And then I remember the amazing stories of heroism. I will never look at a firefighter another way. September 11 changed the way I think of them forever. They became symobolic of the heroism that so many people seemed to have on that day and the weeks afterward. New York City lost 342 firemen that day--most of them in the towers, as they tried to rescue others.


And then I remember the camrederie I felt with total strangers. I'd go to the grocery store and I'd look at a stranger and we shared a glance that meant--"I know what you're feeling. I feel it too." We talked more kindly to each other, we felt a kinship with one another, we felt blessed to simply be able to go into a grocery store and shop.

Five years later, the world is different. Air travel is different. The thought of terrorism always comes to mind whenever anything bad happens. Paranoia is more rampant. The world is a scarier place.

And, despite the politics and the "what ifs" that governments now play, there is the reality of it all--We should never forget those 2996 innocent people (2996! unbelievably hard still for me to grasp the huge number of victims we're talking about!) who lost their lives on a normal Tuesday morning, doing what they do on any normal day. They didn't deserve it . . . and they don't deserve to be forgotten. I will try and preserve their memory and tell my children (even my little one who won't even remember that day, because she wasn't even born yet) to do the same.



One of the best places to honor their memory is at this blog! Go to www.dcroe.com/2996

This site will send you to more than 3000 blogs that are honoring the victims of September 11. I think it's a very special way to remember the fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters who left us that day!

How will I do my part to commemorate the anniversary of this event?

I will pray for the families of those still grieving the loss of a loved one, I will pray for peace, I will do my part to make my corner of the world a better place, and I will count my blessings. Simple steps, really . . . but still something.