Remembering 9-11

This day marks 10 years since the September 11^th tragedy that we all have come to know simply as 9-11.  Many of my colleagues from around the world have been reflecting on where they were and what they were going through the day of that event. I wanted to do the same.

I was a sophomore in college at the time. In fact, I was only a few weeks into my first semester as a Resident Assistant in Athena House at the University of Pittsburgh at Greensburg.

I vividly remember the morning of 9-11.  I had gotten up that morning, gone out to the living room and sat down at one of the two desktop computers in our living room. As I got online, a fellow RA and friend of mine, Megan, sent me a message via Instant Messenger.

“Terrorists!”

“What?”

“Turn on your TV. We were attacked by terrorists.”

Still wiping the sleep from my eyes, I turned on the TV, and I saw the horrifying images of the first Twin Tower. The billowing smoke and dust. The mass confusion. The fire. The sirens. The panic. The silence as the images played across the TV was eerie. Not even the newscasters knew what to say or how to describe the images.

None of my three roommates – Brian, Scott, or Sean – were in the apartment at the time. There I sat, on my couch, alone, just entranced by the small, 20-inch, box TV sitting in our living room. The TV that typically hosted images of Madden Football, NHL Hockey, and Tony Hawk video games suddenly gave off much different vibes.

And then it happened. As I’m watching the images of the first Tower crumbling to the ground, the second plane hits the second Tower.

Unbelievable.

I felt a tear escape and trickle down my cheek. I’m not sure why. I had never even been to New York City. I didn’t know anyone in or near New York City. I had no connections in New York City. Yet, I felt vulnerable. Our country – supposedly the strongest and most powerful in the world – was just attacked.

Soon after, the second Tower was hit. And the Pentagon. And then a fourth plane crashed just an hour away from Pitt-Greensburg in a field in Shanksville.  Suddenly, it was all beginning to hit close to home.

I had just been on my first flight a week earlier for a student activities conference in Atlanta. This whole thing started freaking me out. What if it had been my plane that crashed into the Twin Towers?

Classes for the day were cancelled at Pitt-Greensburg.  The flag soared at half-mast. The student center was empty. No one was talking. All you could seemingly hear outside are the birds off in the distance. There were no cars in the commuter parking lots. I have never witnessed Pitt-Greensburg so eerily quiet and empty on a Tuesday.

 TVs everywhere were replaying the scenes from New York City.

That night, the Resident Assistants on campus were asked to organize a gathering of students who wanted to talk about the day’s events. We ended up having about a dozen students sit down in a circle and talk about how the day’s events had already had an immediate impact. Some had family or friends in New York. Some had great memories of New York.

To be honest, I was a pretty silent participant in that discussion. I felt helpless. I had no personal ties or connections to any of the four crashes.  I didn’t think I had any right in talking about how the tragedies impacted me.

But, no one sitting in that circle that night knew what the long-term effects this day would have on them. Not even me. Even without any direct, personal ties to the 9-11 tragedies, what happened that day still brings tears to my face, still saddens me, and still makes me think about life differently. To this day, I can’t really look at the smoke-filled images from that day without getting a bit choked up.

I’ll always remember that day. Today, I’ll continue reflecting. Today, I’m thankful for the men and women who lost their lives on 9-11 and for those who continue to risk their lives doing a job that most of us aren’t capable of or strong enough to do.