I can not imagine the feelings of those who have a direct connection to the tragedy of September 11th. Those who were first-hand witnesses of the planes crashing into the Twin Towers. Those who watched people – someone’s mother, father, sister, brother, daughter, son – jump to their death. Those who inhaled the soot, who learned of their friend or loved one’s passing… I can not imagine.
There are those, many people, who say they remember exactly where they were when the tragedy occurred. I’ve tossed this around in my head so many times and just the other day I almost got a haze of recall about the day, but then it slipped away.
It’s taken many years for me to understand my brain’s inability to pull up that memory as well as many others.
I was in the military and pregnant during Desert Storm, and the news that was broadcast during my pregnancy only had to do with the war. The anxiety that welled up in me every time I learned of anything going on “over there” was overwhelming and I refused to watch the news after that. Then and to this day I know very little about Desert Storm. That time period began my quest to ignore all things terrorist and war related.
Today, with the coverage of 9/11 memories and tributes, I became mesmerized as a man spoke of his first-hand memories of the day. He ran toward the burning buildings and stood nearby watching the mayhem. At one point, he saw a man and a woman who he speculated were co-workers who had found each other and were comforting each other. They stood in a blown-out window high above the street and grasped hands. He thought they would wait for rescue, but the jumped to their deaths.
His account of that day sent a stream of chills and anxiety through my body with such a jolt that I remembered why I avoid terrorism and war talk. I can not imagine your pain or feelings if you’ve had to deal with this head on. I hope that as time passes more will be freed from the pain of that awful experience; one that continues to unite us.