Eleven Years & Counting...

Eleven Years And Counting...

I could feel it on my insides starting last evening. Everything tightening. Loss of focus. Random thoughts in my mind. Tears building. Angry tension.

They are calling for a clear sky in North Carolina tomorrow and although it seems unthinkable, I really would rather it rain.

My heart was broken 11 years ago and although just like a physical wound that heals, the affected area is never the same. I can't imagine what this day does to all the children who lost parents, parents who lost children... siblings and spouses who never got to see theirs again.

When I close my eyes I can still smell the air, hear the sounds and see the sights. Whatever your memories are of that day, I beg you to never forget... never, ever forget. Sometimes I hear that and it seems angry. I understand that anger and used to say it in that tone. Now I repeat those words as a plea. When you see a member of the military, police, and fire departments - Thank them. When you think of them, have compassion. When you are talking about government budgets, think about what you are asking these individuals to do and the sacrifices their families make. I ask you to remember when you are oh so put out by the requests of a TSA agent. Don't forget that we do have real enemies who want to harm us. Consider that being inconvenienced and/or losing some small privileges could save thousands of lives... even yours.

I read the blog post I wrote 3 years ago and thought I would share it again, because even though it doesn't really capture my deep emotions, I don't think I could do any better.

Has It Been 8 Years Already? Has it Only Been 8 Years?

As I settle in to enjoy the first night of NFL, there is something nagging at my heart. I look forward to this day for 7 months. I have spent the past 4 weekends rushing around to complete tasks around the house so I don't feel so guilty when I spend the next 17 Sundays hanging onto every over-analyzed comment some has-been wants to throw at me. Hell, the Mets even decided to pack it in more than a month ago so I could dedicate myself fully to the NFL games and my beloved Fantasy Team, "The Long Island Hell Cats." So why am I lacking the excitement I usually have and my heart, so heavy?
Eight years ago our country changed (or at least should have) forever. And even if you think I am overstating that I can assure you that I changed forever that day.
At the time I was working for the Muscular Dystrophy Association as a District Director. It was a job I loved in so many ways. I will spare you the negatives at this point in time. Working at MDA I met so many amazing people who handled challenges that I could never imagine better than I handled finding a dress to wear to an event. From children knowing that they would never grow as old as I was at the time (in my late 20s) to those around my age who knew they would never see their newborn's 5th birthday. The strength these individuals and their families showed me everyday was nothing short of inspiring. I always thought what I saw at MDA would be the best and worst I would ever see.
Despite acknowledging that everyday, I still let my own life struggles get the best of me at times. September 10, 2001 was one of those days. In some ways it was a typical "nothing goes right" Monday after an exhausting summer of golf tournaments and various "athon"s. Additionally, I was still struggling with the death of my dear PaPa in August. After a very long day at work, I went home, ate dinner, spoke to a friend on the phone and then headed to bed early.
As my alarm went of on that Tuesday morning, I grunted (as usual), hit snooze a few times and made my way to the bathroom. After popping my contacts in, I headed back to the bedroom to figure out what I wanted to wear. The clock caught my eye and realized I had left my alarm set for 2 hours early, when I had to awake on Monday. I snuggled back into my bed to catch a few more zzzs but could not. So, reluctantly, I made a decision to have a good day. I changed my clothes, headed to the living area and had an early morning date with my on-again-off-again boyfriend Billy Blanks. Once Tae Bo had my blood pumping I got into the shower and off I went.
As I drove to pick up the "Long Island Champion Breakfast" of a Large Coffee and Buttered Roll from 7-Eleven, the amazingly blue sky caught my eye. Upon exiting with my treats in hand, I stopped before opening my car door to look at every bit of sky I could see... just trying to find one (however itty bitty) cloud. I could not find one. As I sat down in my car, I rolled down every window and the moon roof and reaffirmed to myself out loud that today was going to be a great day. I was ready.
At each stop light on my way to the office (which if I remember correctly, there are 97 lights between Setauket & Hauppauge ... especially if you take route 347) I looked up at the sky through the moon roof. I was in complete amazement. In all my 20-some-odd years, I had never seen such a blue sky.
Upon entering the office, I went on my normal routine. Turned on the lights and computers. I turned on the office CD player and knew I had a good 1 1/2 hours before anyone else would arrive. At the time I was in the midst of a huge Harry Connick, Jr. phase and would often use his mellow tones to ease me into my day. But not today. I had pushed my southern boy to the side for my old standard, hometown boy, Billy Joel. As I rushed around the office, I sang along with BJ with a determined light heartedness I not had in at least a couple of months.
At approximately 8:50 AM I received a phone call from a friend telling me that "some jackass drove a plane in the World Trade Center.... and you thought you had a bad day yesterday?" I rushed off the phone as I had things to do, shaking my head wondering how a pilot could manage that. He had to be drunk.
Just a few minutes after 9 AM, some of my co workers started into the office. Okay, we had a small staff and as much as I love them, being on time was not one of the respects they showed me. But today, their faces were stressed, confused, pale and they were rambling on. What? Another plane hit the WTC? My friend called back to let me know that this was no mistake. We were under attack. My breathtaking sky was now the backdrop to smoke, ashes, horror and the last breaths of thousands of people.
Since I did work for a not-for-profit, we did not have luxuries like Internet or television to be able to watch the news coverage. However, Billy did need to shut up, as we needed to listen to the news on the radio. As I look back now, I am glad that I did not have a television to see the 2nd plane hit or the towers fall. At least when I did see it happen, I knew it was coming.
Maybe another day I will write all the details of the day; that is if I ever really remember them. It really is a blur. I remember no cell phones or LAN lines working all day in New York. No way to find out if your friends and family were safe. There were so many people who were lucky to get out of the city that day, even if it did take them 15 hours and they were as dirty as could be. Meanwhile while so many were fleeing, Firefighters and Police were leaving their safe homes and heading in to try and save their brothers and those that they dedicated their lives to keep safe. The highways were closed to the rest of us.
After leaving work and stopping at my parent's house to check in, I arrived at my apartment. I spent the next 12 hours glued to news coverage, listening to helicopters and military planes fly overhead, and reminding myself not to think about what that smell was that was lingering in the air.
For the next few weeks (or longer), the average New Yorker lived in a Zombie like state. Some were consumed with news coverage. Some were angry. Some were searching for their loved ones that were still missing. Some found God. Many were attending funerals. Many were looking for someway to payback. Most gave in any way we could to neighbors and charities that needed our help. All of us cried. All of us were looking for reasons why.
Commuting on Long Island is a nightmare that could turn the most calm person into a road rage offender. But during those weeks, drivers were courteous and I received many friendly hellos from strangers, which I had never seen before on LI. However, for weeks the commutes were worse than ever. You could not drive without running into a funeral procession or hitting traffic by a funeral home or fire house. Those purple flags hung for months on each fire house. However, I did not want to go to the Railroad station. There, you would see THEIR CARS. The cars that were there last time you were there... in the same spot. The ones that their owners left behind on that Tuesday Morning and never came back for.
The one sight that would lighten my mood was seeing my beautiful "Old Glory" everywhere I went. This Flag Day baby has never seen a more beautiful sight than the stars and stripes blowing in the wind. Every car, house, business, highway overpass... Everywhere you looked was the Red, White & Blue hung with pride. The one thought that made me feel better was knowing PaPa did not have to see what happened that day.
As with all things, time began to heal wounds. I don't believe they will ever completely be mended; For sure, the scars are deep. I am a lucky one. Of course, I know people whose journey ended that day but I did not lose a family member or a close friend.
However, something precious to me was taken from me on 9/11... blue skies. For eight years I have never seen a more beautiful sky than I did that morning. Any one that has even come close quickly reminds me of that day and shrouds me in sadness, even if only for a few minutes.
In my mind I have fought this. I don't want to give that to those who attacked us. One day, I will look at a blue sky and just bask in it again. The only thing that could make that day better was if while doing so I saw American Flags hung with pride for no reason. If people where just proud to be Americans because of our history, present & future... not because someone punched us in the eye.
I look forward to that day. But tonight, I make the decision to not let them take football from me as well. Even as Harry just sang the Star Spangled Banner in his fabulous voice, just as he began to sing "Recipe for Love" that morning. I remember that day and send my prayers to all those who lost their life that day. But I will not let terrorists win anymore.

"Where Were You (When The World Stopped Turning)"
By Alan Jackson
Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day
Out in the yard with your wife and children
Working on some stage in LA
Did you stand there in shock at the site of
That black smoke rising against that blue sky
Did you shout out in anger
In fear for your neighbor
Or did you just sit down and cry
Did you weep for the children
Who lost their dear loved ones
And pray for the ones who don't know
Did you rejoice for the people who walked from the rubble
And sob for the ones left below
Did you burst out in pride
For the red white and blue
The heroes who died just doing what they do
Did you look up to heaven for some kind of answer
And look at yourself to what really matters

I'm just a singer of simple songs
I'm not a real political man
I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you
The difference in Iraq and Iran
But I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young
Faith hope and love are some good things he gave us
And the greatest is love

Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day
Teaching a class full of innocent children
Driving down some cold interstate
Did you feel guilty cause you're a survivor
In a crowded room did you feel alone
Did you call up your mother and tell her you love her
Did you dust off that bible at home
Did you open your eyes and hope it never happened
Close your eyes and not go to sleep
Did you notice the sunset the first time in ages
Speak with some stranger on the street
Did you lay down at night and think of tomorrow
Go out and buy you a gun
Did you turn off that violent old movie you're watching
And turn on "I Love Lucy" reruns
Did you go to a church and hold hands with some stranger
Stand in line and give your own blood
Did you just stay home and cling tight to your family
Thank God you had somebody to love

I'm just a singer of simple songs
I'm not a real political man
I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you
The difference in Iraq and Iran
But I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young
Faith hope and love are some good things he gave us
And the greatest is love

I'm just a singer of simple songs
I'm not a real political man
I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you
The difference in Iraq and Iran
But I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young
Faith hope and love are some good things he gave us
And the greatest is love
The greatest is love
The greatest is love
Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day