I am sure there are tons of blogs out there about this exact subject this week or during this weekend. So here goes...
Sunday is the 10th anniversary of September 11. It would be pretty hard to find someone alive today that doesn't remember where they were on that day. When the actual event began, I was in band and during football season we spent every morning marching. It wasn't until about 10 AM when I actually found out about it. I walked into Mr. Chapman's class and he had the television on. I remember thinking it was some kind of video doctoring or a movie clip or something. I mean, we are America. We are NEVER taken by surprise and attacked. It was very humbling for me as a freshman in high school. I grew up and America was bullet proof. I was always taught to love my country and that we did what we had to do to protect our citizens. We were the ones to go help people when they are in need and defend causes we thought were just. It had been nearly 60 years since someone had the fortitude to attack America on our own soil. So there it was on the television, airplanes flying into our buildings. First one, and then another. And then a report of one crashing into the Pentagon, and another in a field in Pennsylvania.
So what did it feel like that day. Well, I was 14 years old. Not exactly all that well versed in world politics or anything like that. Everything I knew came from discussions with friends about the military and such. So here are these airplanes being flown into buildings by people who had spent some time in the US, of course, I was a little afraid. Naturally I think. Does that mean I didn't have faith in the American government? No. But who's to say they weren't headed to Houston or Dallas next? We sat and watched people jumping out of windows to escape a blazing death. We were weak, scrambling, and we still had to sit in school. The day went on, we spent most of our classes sitting watching history unfold before our very eyes. We were a school in Texas, so of course, the coach talked to us for a while and then we went on with business as usual, "Because that's what Americans do" (literally the jist of what Coach A told us).
I then went home and yet again sat down and watched history unfold. I remember sitting and watching for hours and talking to my family about it all and just trying to grasp it. One thing I distinctly remember is the reaction of my uncle. He was blind at the time and was very upset and afraid. I remember hearing that the morning it all happened he switched on the TV and could hear the sounds and such, but at the moment no one was explaining what was going on. I remember that he called my Granny in an extreme panic.
So, America of course persevered and began the War on Terror. We watched as the leaders of our country gathered on the steps of the Capitol and collectively sang a patriotic song. We heard a number of speeches from our Commander-in-Chief. We came together. We helped each other. We were United, I think we forgot what that felt like.
I also have another connection to September 11. Two years later, my uncle was admitted to the hospital with some complications and had gone in on like September 9 or September 10. He had been in the hospital before, I really never thought of this as any different kind of time. However, he wasn't doing good and we spent a lot of time on Wednesday night (the 10th) up at the hospital, mostly in the ICU waiting room while family filed in and out to see him. I remember going in right before I left for the night and talking to him a little bit and then saying goodbye.
My uncle Ken was very important to me. We spent a lot of time together watching TV and a lot of times I would travel with him and some others in my family to his various doctor visits. You see my uncle had diabetes from the time he was young and he eventually lost function in his kidneys and went blind. He then received a kidney transplant. We had a lot of good quality time together. My Granny, Aunt, Mom, and Sisters got the pleasure of spending some time in August with him in Galveston. He really loved his family especially his nephew and nieces. And we knew it.
So that night when we said goodbye, I didn't really even think about it. In the middle of the night, er morning of the 11th, I was awoken by my Dad who said my Mom had something to tell me. He handed me the phone. Mom's voice on the other side was shaky when she told me that Ken had passed away. We all got up and went over to my grandmother's house, where I had spent all those countless hours with my uncle. If you know me, you know I am a guy who isn't afraid to show his emotions. I tried hard to choke back tears and be strong for my family, and I think for the most part I was, but inside I was upset. I knew Ken had gone on to be with God and that he could now see and was able to look down on our family.
Funny how I mentioned something about proceeding with business as usual earlier. Because that is how that Thursday ended up going. I think I went back and took a quick nap before going to school that morning. I'd decided that since the visitation wasn't until Friday that I would go ahead and play my football game (yes, as a junior I was on JV). So I played and I do not remember a lot about the game, but us dominating Pine Tree (as usual) and me thinking the whole time that Ken was finally able to SEE me play football. He had been blind for a long time and I had only been playing football for four years. I hope that he was proud of how I played that night. Heck, I hope he is proud of how my life has turned out thus far. I hope he is proud of my awesome family.
So, here we are 10 years after the September 11th Attacks. It has been 8 years since I lost my uncle. My life is completely different from both of these events. America is different than we were 10 years ago.
So this Sunday, stop for a moment, think about the ones you love. Think about your country. Be thankful.
Actually, stop right now and think about the ones you love. Think about your country.
Be thankful.
Never Forget.
