I have admittedly been terrible about keeping up with my blog since returning from nationals! But my directors have asked us girls to write our memories and experiences from 9/11 and I can't think of a more worthy topic to bring me back...
Interestingly, I had been in NYC competing with my pro-partner at the World Trade Center on August 11, 2001. I wish photos were digital back then (yes, I am that old) because I have the most beautiful photo of my best friend and I in front of the twin towers. We had my dance partner lay on his back on the ground and take a photo "up" at us, with both towers visible behind us, standing tall and proud into the sunshine. And I swear, the towers are radiant and actually glowing. Our arms are wrapped tight around one another in that "best friends forever" embrace that only girls can do and we are smiling so hard we are actually laughing.. mouths wide open in joy and eyes sparkling. Of all that strikes me when I look at that photo today, the innocence of us in contrast to what happened on that very spot 30-days later is what hits me the hardest.
We were barely 19 at the time and my freedom was never something I questioned or even thought much about. War was something I knew my grandfather had fought in and I'd read about, but had little meaning to me in my life. Fear was a word I associated with failing a test or not making a final in competition. I had never before associated it with my life, my freedom, or the safety and security of my country. 9/11 changed that for me.
I had just pulled onto campus when the radio reported a plane crashing World Trade Center. Of course we now know that this crash would later be refered to as into "the first tower". I called my best friend and ran into class. I sat with my peers and teachers, my cell phone to my ear, and we watched the second crash. There was absolute silence. I knew beyond a doubt what President Bush would announce hours later...we had been attacked. The vulnerability of that realization was a kind I had never experienced prior to that moment and hope I never feel again. It is one thing to feel vulnerable as a person, but to feel vulnerable as a NATION is a sickening feeling.
I try not to focus too much on that feeling when remembering 9/11. I believe that was the goal and I refuse to give such awful people and such horrific intent satisfaction. Instead I think about how in life's most terrifying and horrific of moments, true hope and courage can emerge. I remember that while 1,000s ran screaming from the chaos and fire, there were people running into it. True heroes. I remember the stories we all read and continue to read about complete strangers holding hands while running for their lives in stairwells and comforting one another in final moments. Firefighters who had just come off 48-hr shifts, no doubt hungry and tired and ready to spend time with their families, only to turn around and put their lives back on the line for people they didn't even know. And it makes me proud.
9/11 taugh me fear. It taught me that my freedom is not something to take for granted and it is NOT free. But more than that, it taught me how deeply and truly proud I am to be an American. It gave me a pride in this country that I could never have understood before. I am grateful to live in a nation where in the presence of true evil, our unity and love for one another and our great country is not muted, but instead shines more bright.
My dad is a true lover of history and sent me this quote this morning. Wise and comforting words from a great lover of his country, Ronald Reagan. May it bring everyone the peace and pride it brought me.
"We will always remember. We will always be proud. We will always be prepared, so we may always be free."
God Bless the USA
