Friday, September 10, 2010

where were you

September 11, 2001.

i was 18 years, and 28 days old.

i was living at my grandparents.

i woke up to people talking in the next room, and the t.v. turned on really loud.

i left my room to find my grandpa and aunt wendy looking out the window to the airport, watching bigger than normal planes land. i asked what was going on, and they said they were grounding all flights. my very first thought that i remember was:

did someone bomb the world trade center again?

little.did.i.know.

i got myself together and went downstairs to watch on the t.v. i walked into the room, as i looked at the t.v. the the first tower to fall, fell.

i started to cry

i watched the t.v. all day long. i was glued to it. trying to figure out EVERYTHING that i could about what was going on. i couldn't stop watching. i remember being curled up on my grandma's couch, sitting in my grandma's spot, just glued.

why was this happening? what did we do? what about all those people?
the images will be forever ingrained into my brain. the faces. the buildings. the planes. everything.

i remember missing my mom. i wanted to be curled up next to her, so she could hold me and tell me that everything was going to be ok. because i was still just a kid. i AM still just a kid.
and there are some things that mothers have the power to just make better.

i cried. a lot.

and every year, as this date comes around. i still look at articles, still trying to soak up everything that i can about it.
i can't believe it's been 9 years.
it still seems like yesterday.

while i was in new york last month, i told stacy, that one of the things i HAD to do while there, was to visit Ground Zero. it wasn't a negotiation. i was going to go. so we made it happen. the "pit" as they refer it to is surrounded by a covered fence. it's hard to see in. and we couldn't find the building that you could get above it and look down into it. so we did what we could.
 
there is a church
 across the street from ground zero called st. paul's. they have a memorial basically set up inside. so we spent a lot of time in there going through things. they had letters, and basically showed what it was like during the recovery efforts. it was heart warming. i cried. i was choked up. i tried to take pictures, but i wanted to take it all in as well. so i admit that i didn't get as many as i was hoping to. the spirit in there was amazing. the ground around there was hallowed. you could feel it. we were standing in there and i watched a man come in, look around, and then he fell to his knees bawling. it really tugged at your heartstrings. there was so much that happened there, that you can't even begin to wrap your mind around it.

   
  
the sign on the pew says the following:
"THE PEWS
throughout the 9/11 relief ministry, the chapel's pews became a refuge for firefighters, police officers, and rescue workers. some came to sit quietly alone; others came to pray. many came to sleep, stretching out with a blanket, pillow and teddy bear provided by volunteers.  letters from children cvered each pew, offering an uplifting message of hope.
always read to be called back to "the pit" at any moment, workers kept their boots and equipment belts on, creating deep scuff marks in the pews. when the chapel was cleaned and refurbished in 2002, it was decided  not to repair the pews, but to leave the marks as a witness and a tribute to the workers.
today, st. paul's chapel continues to honor the first responders of 9/11 by participating in the 9/11 neediest medical campaign."
and in the blue section it says :
"fireman's coats hung over the pews were a common sight.
at left are items that you might have seen on the pews on any day of the relief effort - a FDNY coat, a police lieutenant's hat, a hard hat, a bandana bearing the words of Psalm 91 - all are mementos of the police, military, rescue and recovery workers who rested here"
here is a cool fire station that is located just a few blocks away as well. and it is still in service. how cool is that?
 
I hope to never forget that day, or how i felt. as i hope that no one ever forgets. and i thank God every day for those over fighting for this to never happen again. 
hugs and prayers. 

me.

4 comments:

Ryan said...

Wow very powerful post, both the words and the images touched me. Thank you.

dterryphotography said...

I actually try not to think much about this subject ... preferring happier thoughts. However, I read your post completely. It was very touching. I can say that I identified with a lot of it (well, except being a young girl). Anyway, I'm writing primarily to say this: I really like your writing style. You have a talent there. Keep up the good work!

mandy_moo said...

I was in first period Spanish class at dear old DHS when i heard about the first tower. I just didn't grasp the seriousness of the situation at all. It took a long time for me to get it.

Erin said...

Touching story. That is a different church than the one I saw when I was there. Very cool.