9/11/01 – We Will Never Forget. Ever

wtc and brooklyn bridge

In Loving Memory of All Who Lost their Lives and
Loved Ones on This Tragic Day in 2001.

It is hard to believe that this tragedy happened 9 years ago. The memory and wound is so fresh in my mind and heart.

I grew up in NYC – Brooklyn, specifically. I have many friends and family that live and work there, in the city. I remember hearing the stories where God intervened on that day and kept them safe. Here are 2 stories of my family and friends:

  • My father worked in one of the trade center buildings (a smaller one that also was destroyed in the final fall out). He woke up that morning with a stomach ache and decided to go into work after lunch.
  • My friend’s sister was getting ready to get on a train from New Jersey to the Trade Center, where she worked, but her small kid had a complete melt-down outside the station, causing her to not only miss her train, but witness the first tower “exploding”, from across the river.

On this day, Derek had just received his real estate license and was reporting to his first day in the business. Needles to say, no real estate happened that day. He stayed home, like so many other Americans, glued to the TV, in shock and awe.

I, on the other hand, was helping Derek in real estate, but still working for a local High School. I was called into the office, where the receptionist, who knew I was from NY, told me that a bomb went off in one of the twin towers. This was a confusing time: Was it a bomb? Was it an accident? No one knew for sure … Nothing was online yet… (There was no Twitter…)

I scrambled to find a TV that could pick up any reception and sat and watched the billowing smoke and flames pour out of the first tower, and then, in complete terror, watched the 2nd plane crash into the second tower. And then watched the aftermath of the Pentagon crash. And then followed the tragedy (and heroism) of Flight 93.

Frantically, I tried to reach my father – knowing he worked at the Trade Center. Of course, all lines were busy – overloaded with millions of people trying to reach millions of people. It wasn’t until later that evening that my father was able to call me back, and tell me about his stomach ache.

I took the next day off of work and cried. And cried.

My country was wounded. My people were dead.

September 11, 2001. I will Never Forget. Ever.