September 11th – eight years later

I will never forget.

In some ways, it is hard to believe that eight years have passed. I remember that day so clearly as if it were just last year. My morning started just like any other. Every workday morning, I would walk into my office just before 9am and turn on my computer. From there, I would walk around the office making sure everything was up and ready for the workday. During this process, my computer boots up and automatically launches MSNBC online. When I returned to my desk, there was a scrolling message at the top of the screen saying a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. I’m thinking that it had to be one of those small personal planes that fly up and down the river, since no major airlines flew that low or that close to the city.

There was no active line on the news message, so I clicked on the refresh button to see if there was additional information. When the screen reloaded, it said that two commuter planes had collided and hit the World Trade Center. That made a more sense to me, since I could imagine how a damaged plane could not avoid the towers. I stepped out of my office to talk to my assistant to see if she had heard about the accident. We went back to my office to look at the news to see if there were any updates. I pressed the refresh button again, but this time nothing came up. (I would later come to find out that our service provider was routed through New York City, and hence the reason why the internet went down.)

At this point, the radios were turned on and work for the day basically came to a stand still. We learned the details of the attacks in New York as well as the one on the Pentagon. I walked around the building, checking in with the other departments during the day before going outside. The streets were quiet. The sky was free of planes. It looked like a ghost town wherever I turned, but then I noticed some activity across the street.

While my office was busy trying to catch up with the news of the morning, the day care center across the street had the children busy making signs of support and comfort, as well as American flags. The kids walked their creations to the side of the road and held them proudly. There weren’t many people on the street, but I’m sure the few concerned people that were racing home or to their loved ones felt a little better when seeing this display of hope and encouragement in the hands of our future generation.

That morning will stick with me for the rest of my life.

I will never forget.