Because I will always remember

I've been trying to find a way to remember and honor the men and women who gave their lives on September 11, 2001 and the men and women who sacrificed themselves since that tragic morning. . .I'll be running a 5k on Saturday morning-and I'll be wearing a picture of one of the firefighters who died on September 11th. I've decided to spend the weekend at home: reading, reflecting and giving thanks.

Many of us can answer the question, "Where were you on 9/11?"

I know I can.

It was 6:00am in California, when my brother Andy and I stood in front of the television in his bedroom; completely confused. We watched ABC News 10 every single morning as we got ready for school. We'd usually be home alone; Andy would turn up the volume on the television so I could hear it across the hall. On that morning, as we stood waiting for the weather forecast, we were told that an airplane had been hijacked and flown into the World Trade Center. We stood, dumbfounded as they showed a clip of the burning tower. And then, on the live feed, minutes later, we saw a second plane hit the other tower. I looked at Andy and he looked at me. . .what was going on? I was 13 and to be honest, I had no idea what the World Trade Center was. We watched. And listened. And gasped. And watched. And listened. And then I walked to the bus stop and Andy walked to school. At the bus stop, a bunch of us talked, immaturely, about what we would do if we knew we were going to die. I am ashamed to admit: most of us were laughing and joking around, not grasping the effects the attacks would have on our world. We got to school. Went to class. Watched the planes crash into the towers, over and over and over again. Then, in third period, it hit me: Ez was in New York City. Ezgar, my brother, my hero, was in NYC where buildings were collapsing. Ez and his girlfriend at the time, Maiko, were touring the city together. And he could have well been on a tour of the World Trade Centers. I walk out of my classroom to the office. I had to call my mom-but of course, she was still at work. She had no idea what was going on in New York City. When I couldn't call my parents- I stood in the office at Teel Middle School, crying my eyes out. I'd have to wait to go home to explain to my mom what was going on and then attempt to contact Ez or pray that he'd called and left a message. For the rest of the day, in most of my classes, we sat and watched the news. I'd watch and then leave to cry in the bathroom. I prayed that the day would end and that Ez was safe. I don't remember how or when we got into contact with Ezgar-but he said they'd left their hotel in Manhattan on the evening of September the 10th, for a quick road trip to Philadelphia (Ezgar told me recently that we'd convinced Maiko to drive out there with him, so that he could run up the stairs in Philly and feel like Rock Balboa). He was safe, thank God.

For the next few days, I joined the thousands across the country in prayers for those that were killed, for those who had lost a loved one, for the firefighters of New York City and for those in the military. The local radio station had some sort of special in the days following 9/11 and I sat in the front yard, listening to the radio while praying and wanting to do something to help. I remember hearing someone I knew (from my days as an Empire Eagles Cheerleader) on the radio. She was in the Air Force and she was calling our community to action. She told us that now was the time to join together with our neighbors to support our country and our soldiers-they played her clip over and over for the next couple of days-and I remember thinking, "Wow, people are really coming together, this is beautiful. I hope this lasts"

It did, for a couple of months.

President Obama reminded us in his address to the nation the night Osama bin Laden was captured and killed that "On September 11, 2001, in our time of grief, the American people came together. We offered our neighbors a hand, and we offered the wounded our blood. We reaffirmed our ties to each other, and our love of community and country. On that day, no matter where we came from, what God we prayed to, or what race or ethnicity we were, we were united as one American family."

Will this 10 year anniversary bring us together again?

Thoughts to ponder.

I found Time's Special Commemorative Issue "Beyond 9/11" in my mailbox today. It's definitely a tear jerker. I couldn't read more than two pages before getting chocked up and emotional. . .It's been a good read thus far. The issue contains no advertising and is predominately in black and white, displaying "Portraits of Resilience"

Here, you'll find the closing paragraph of Kurt Andersen article as he reflects on how we've changed in this decade since 9/11. Andersen writes... We were not cowed. But with the insistence that American life should not change a whit, we implicitly declared that the era of irrational exuberance would proceed and accelerate. Expanding debt and shriveled savings, prices of real estate and stocks soaring ever higher--that was the way we rolled before 9/11, and by God, that'd be the way we rolled after 9/11. The national display of resilience has been amazing and heartening. But the what-me-worry flip side of resilience is the state of denial about our unsustainable bad habits. Yes, the terrorists would have won if we'd cowered in fear. Undaunted and unchanged, America has shown its mettle. But i think we'd be feeling better now if, 10 years ago, we'd also had the courage to see a new way forward and really change."