Remembering 9/11 💔🇺🇸❤️

September 11, 2001.

9/11 — The day the world stopped spinning. A day no one can forget. A day that can still send shivers down my spine. I, like most Americans, remember oh so clearly. Remember where I was, what I was doing, and all the emotions I felt. — I was in the start of my 7th-grade year. It had been a few weeks since school had started, so our routine was sent. I was in English Lit. I started noticing all the teachers whispering to each other, a look of concern on their faces. Our teacher announced that there was a tragedy that had struck our nation. Two planes had flown into two buildings in New York City, known as the Twin Towers. These buildings were full of workers, diligently working. These Twin Towers that she spoke of had begun to fall. As a twelve-year-old, I didn’t/couldn’t understand the magnitude of this, until she turned on the TV. The videos, interviews, commentary that followed was enough for my twelve-year-old brain to understand, something terrible, really really bad had just happened. I remember feeling scared, unsafe and panicked. Our teacher did her best to minimize our fears.

The days turned to weeks; weeks turned to months. The news was full of tragedy after tragedy. As expected troops deploying, body counts rose. But to my surprise, peace had begun. Peace between religious groups, between politicians, between races. That was the first and one of the only times in my life, that we as Americans set aside our differences and bonded together. Bonded together to pay respect to those who lost their lives, to those who were mourning the loss of someone. The months following the sale of anything Americana skyrocketed. Everywhere you looked flags were flying, yellow ribbons wrapped around trees, and even clothing with the American flag became the “it thing” to wear. Support for the troops was astronomically high, we all united and found the motivation to find the man responsible for this horrific event.

As some of you might remember last March, I took a trip out to New York City for the Big Ten basketball tournament. The tournament did not goes as hoped, but it did free up a lot of time to check out some of the top attraction NYC has to offer.

One of which is the historical 9/11 tribute museum.

The 9/11 tribute museum and memorial is something so sincere to a lot of American’s but even more to my generation. This was the first tragedy that we as a generation were old enough to not only remember but understand. Our parents were around in the 60’s while all the racial prejudice was prominent, or in the 70’s when the Cold War was taking place, and even in the 90’s when Desert Storm was making headlines. 9/11 was that horrific event for us. As a past military wife, I have spent countless sleepless nights thinking about how an incident that took place seventeen years today, took my husband away from me. How an event that took place when he was thirteen years old was the reason, he was being shot at. The moment I stood near ground zero, stared off into the remembrance pools, made everything come full circle.

I wish I could describe for you the feelings that came over me while walking through the museum, but I can’t. Each exhibit brought a new emotion. Pride, anger, shock, sadness, to name a few. The emotion that I remember feeling the most was respect. You know how there is always that one asshole that is too loud, too insensitive or plain selfish anytime you visit a museum? Or the person who spends too much time looking at one piece, not stepping aside so others can also view? Or maybe the one who makes jokes when jokes are not appropriate? — There was none of that. The museum was silent. The amount of respect and honor each person shown to those injured, killed or affected in any way was by far the most magical, serene thing I have ever seen. Even though this was an event that I lived through, studied and had grown up living with the repercussions of that day, the museum brought so much more light to it. Being inches away from a shoe that was left behind when the women was running for her life. Or the firetruck that was demolished while trying to rescue those in the towers. What about the voice recordings of passengers calling their loved ones on the ground to say goodbye. Or the flight recordings from the aircraft to the air traffic controllers. Being that close to actual items made me realize this was not just something I saw on TV on this day seventeen years ago. This was an absolutely, heart wretching, devasting day in our Nation’s history.

Below I have posted a few pictures of the museum. There were many parts we were not able to take photos of, but for those parts, we were able to I have posted below.

The picture does not do it justice. — You MUST MUST MUST plan a trip, it will humble you to your core. <3

The last thing I want to say, which is not something I usually talk about. I want to ask everyone what happened in the past seventeen years?

What happened to the united front we as Americas displayed for those days, weeks and months after 9/11? Why is it today we live in a society where racism is an everyday topic? Where every professional football game we have to debate about standing or kneeling for the Nation Anthem. What about the hashtags going around saying “not my president”?

I am not using this blog to argue with anyone one any particular topic I listed above. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. My only point is we are the opposite of the united front we were years ago. I challenge everyone to stop for one minute today and remember what it was like when we banded together. Remember the overwhelming pride we all felt no matter our differences. While 9/11 is one of the worst tragedies in our nation’s history, it also brought good. Brought recognition, respect, and honor back to us as a nation.

I for one will never forget. <3