I remember that morning as if it was yesterday. I had just gotten home from vacation the night before on September 10, 2001 with my then-boyfriend-now husband, Damian. We slept in and had plans to go to brunch before I had to report for my night shift at my TV news station in Rochester, NY. I remember I jumped in the shower and Damian put on ESPN. Of course, instead of sports, the ESPN anchors were talking about the planes that had just hit the World Trade Center. Damian yelled for me to come see what was happening. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Having grown up in New York City, you often take for granted the "tourist hot spots". But the Twin Towers were part of the skyline that meant home. And when they came down... my heart sank. I picked up the phone right away to call my mother who lives in NYC... I couldn't get through. I called my sister and brother who also lived in NYC at the time and couldn't get through. I had friends and family who were either at work in Manhattan... or on their way there. It was heartbreaking and scary.
Yesterday, my son, who is 12 years old, came home with a homework assignment... he had to interview someone who lived through the September 11th attacks. As soon as he started asking me questions I got emotional. I did not lose any family members that day- but I did lose neighbors and friends of the family. I told him a little bit about September 11th- but then told him about September 12th. While everyone was still in a state of shock, Americans came together that day. We were on the same team. No matter if you were young or old, black or white, rich or poor... we were all the same. There was no road rage in the days that followed. There was no rudeness. None of that mattered. There was kindness. There was love. There was courage. There was bravery. There was patriotism. That's what I want my children to remember.
Never forget the events of September 11th and never forget the love on September 12th.
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