Reflection

Today is the 10th anniversary of 9/11/01.  I have a hard time using the word anniversary, anniversary is reserved for happy things like birthdays and celebrations. 

I wasn't alive when JFK was shot, when we landed on the moon, when MLK was shot or many other major events that shaped our nation's history.  I remember the OKC bombing, but I think I was still too young to really understand what it meant. 

9/11 is really the first major event that I remember everything about.  It was a Tuesday, I remember because I had only had one class on Tuesdays/Thursdays the fall of my sophomore year and that class (Ethics) wasn't until 3:00 in the afternoon.  I had been up late the night before because a guy I had gone out with a few times was suddenly being a major jerk for no reason and I was upset. 

Around 7:45, my suitemate, Laura, threw open my door, turned on the lights and said, "Lauren, get up, you have to get up now!"  She said this over and over and was turning on the little tv in my and Alisha's room.  I asked her what was going on and she said I just needed to watch.  She asked several times if I had spoken to my mom, and at that time I couldn't figure out why. 

I watched over and over as they showed planes crashing into the towers, the towers collapsing and people running in all directions.  Once it finally sunk in what was happening (reporters just started saying "terrorist attack"), I remembered Laura asking if I had talked to my mom.  I asked Laura why she was so worried about me talking to my mom.  She looked at me and said "They are attacking DC, too." 

While I was in college, my parents lived just outside of DC and both of them worked in DC.  My mom was the principal at a private school called Rock Creek Academy and my stepdad worked at the FAA Headquarters.  

I grabbed my phone and tried calling my mom's cell, busy, Wayne's cell, busy, my mom's office, busy, Wayne's office, busy.  Then I saw pictures of the Pentagon and heard reporters saying that DC was completely sealed off, no one in, no one out.  They were trapped. 

I spent the better part of an hour trying to reach someone.  Finally, I was able to get through to my mom's secretary and she put me through to my mom.  They were ok, parents were freaking out trying to get their children or trying to get back into the city.  I asked if she had talked to Wayne...she told me Wayne was on a plane.  My heart dropped.  What plane?  What flight?  Was he ok?  My mom didn't have any of his flight info, but said none of the numbers they couldn't track in the air sounded familiar. 

A few hours later, I got a phone call from Wayne saying he had landed in Houston and he was ok.  He asked that if I talked to my mom first, I let her know that he was ok.  It was extremly difficult to get a line into/out of DC for the day of and the days following 9/11. 

My mom didn't return home until late in the evening.  Thankfully, other than emotional stress, she was fine.  Wayne spent a few days in Houston, then he and his co-worker rented a car and drove from Houston to Virginia. 

As I spent today remembering that horrific day, I relived all those feelings.  Watching the videos all over again today brought up all those feelings of fear I experienced that day.  I remember going to class and we spent the whole time talking about what happened and how we felt about it.  While a lot of people didn't come to class that day, I'm glad I did.  It was nice to get different perspectives. 

9/11/01  Never Forget.