It's my first September 11th anniversary as a New Yorker, and I'm not going to lie, I shed quite a few tears today. This day has certainly always been emotional whether it was seeing the terror unfold from the news station I was working at in Cheyenne, Wyoming, or for the next decade covering the anniversaries as a reporter and news writer in Colorado, Florida, Indiana and Illinois.
But while I watched the reading of the victims' names today, I had this humbling thought. I realized the people at the podium are my neighbors. They're the people sitting next to me on the subway. They're the ones I pass on the street or perhaps the ones I get frustrated with because they seem to be in my way. Throughout the city, I'm next to thousands of people who's lives were forever changed during one beautiful, sunny day in New York City.
As I awoke this morning, I thought about all those people who just like me, got up on September 11th and had a cup of coffee. They got on the subway and headed into work. Or they drove to the airport, hoping to not miss their flights. It was just another Tuesday. They had no idea they would never see their husbands or wives again. Their sisters. Their brothers. Their parents. Their unborn children.
Today I did two things in honor of this anniversary. I thanked a police officer for her service. She smiled and thanked me back. And at dinner, I told Mike that if anything were to ever happen to me, I wanted him to know it's been one awesome decade.
To all the brave men and women that day who ran into the buildings without a moment's hesitation, thank you. To all the families of the 2,977 victims, we're with you, now and forever.
God Bless America.
No comments:
Post a Comment