Some of my worst memories have been in front of CNN. Waiting, watching, praying for some kind of news about family. Waiting, watching, praying for some semblance of reason to return to the world. So much waiting, watching, and praying…
It’s not that I blame the network for these horrific days. I suppose it’s like hating the dentist – nothing personal against the man himself, I’ve just got some seriously painful associations with that particular medical setting.
I remember hearing people ask each other “where were you when JFK was shot?” and thinking huh, how is someone supposed to remember something from so long ago? But that was before 9/11. That was before I understood some moments are so earth shattering they’re frozen in time and space, a crystalized memory stored forever deep in the psyche.
I will always associate 9/11 with an office cubicle. A small space with beige, nondescript dividers and a radio that gave us our first hint the country had been shaken to its core. I remember the carpet that muffled everyone’s footsteps and the way it got so quiet, except for the refrain of “this can’t be happening.” I see now what a singularly American thing that is to say – so many people around the world live with daily violence destroying their nation, but I was flabbergasted to have evil visit our mainland.
It wasn’t until after work when I parked myself in front of CNN, hoping for some answers.
I remember going in to work overtime, taking calls on the DNA hotline. Taking information so people could arrange testing. Trying in vain to answer questions when there were so few answers to be found. But mostly listening, over and over, to the collective pain of people crying out where are our loved ones?
There were never enough answers.
I was a few days into my sophomore year of high school. I still remember a lot from 9/11/01, but I know I’ll absolutely never forget the words of my 23-year-old AP World History teacher, as he passionately spoke to a room of shell-shocked 15-year olds: “Guys, this is your Pearl Harbor. This is your JFK. Your children and grandchildren will ask you where you were on 9/11. Never, ever forget.”
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Wow. What a remarkably poignant thing to say, especially on a day when most of us were wrecked.
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Indeed, that’s why I remember it so well! And it’s interesting to look back now and realize that my teacher was so young (he was only in his second year of teaching) and we were his first AP class. I remember thinking that he, as a young history teacher, must have felt like it was his duty to put that day into context historically by comparing it to events of similar magnitude that we, as kids, only knew about from hearing our parents and grandparents talk about them.
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I was on my neighbor’s couch, having coffee. I had to beg my husband not to reenlist that day. I didn’t win for long. Okay, I didn’t win.
No one won.
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And isn’t that the truth.
But thank him for his service, please.
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Such a horrible and terrifying day that was.
I was home having breakfast, when I heard the news on the TV that morning. Stunned, of course, but I put in a VHS tape and recorded news reports on different stations all day long. I still have them.
When JFK was assassinated I was in 7th grade English class, when an announcement came over the loud speaker.
RIP all those who perished ❤
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It feels like just yesterday, doesn’t it? Someone told me only one of her teachers mentioned it today & they didn’t even have a minute of silence. That makes me a little sad.
Thanks for sharing.
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It does seem like 9/11 happened just the other day. I guess because it gets mentioned so often over the years. Surprising something wasn’t said about it at school.
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I thought so, too. Picked up my daughter & she said ALL of her teachers talked about where they were that day.
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I remember where I was when JFK was shot – I had just gone in to our small town post office. I rushed home and spent the next several days glued to the TV. I was getting ready for work when for some reason husband turned the TV on – perhaps someone called us, I don’t recall that. I went to work and we spent the entire day running into the room where the T was to see what. Was happening then. I remember when Martin Luther King was shot. I remember when Bobby Kennedy was shot. I remember the Sandy Hook, Newtown, and Parkland shootings. I remember, but I will never understand why. How can people do these things to one another? Why are we so filled with anger and hate? And now, we have “leadership” that foments that anger and hate. My heart is sad.
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I wish somebody understood. Anything that could help us stem this tide…
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Stories like this take me back to that day. And you’re right, there never are enough answers.
Peace and remembering
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To you as well. 💛
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It is amazing how those moments stick with us for so many years. The helplessness I felt watching from the Midwest remains a haunting memory.
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So many of us felt helpless that day. In the handful of friends I had from our days in St Louis there were a few affected by the sudden grounding of planes — I can’t imagine how terrifying it would have been to be in the airports that day.
Thanks for sharing, Shelley.
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I was talking with a friend on the phone who never had her TV off. She screamed, “OMG…..TURN ON YOUR TV!” and hung up. I immediately turned on the TV and remained glued to it for days.
I did not personally know anyone who perished that horrible day, but they were all my brothers and sisters nevertheless. We all suffered an enormous loss that September 11th.
And I remember where I was when JFK, MLK, and Bobby were shot. 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸
🔹 Ginger 🔹
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Those are memories that never fade, and I’ve seen almost a kinship when people talk about them. They’ve survived a common experience that just can’t be described fully to outsiders.
Thanks for sharing, Ginger.
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I remember where I was when Jack Kennedy was shot
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We forget that all those moments that are “just” in history books are real life experiences for real people. I never engaged well in history class. That’s just one of the reasons I think museums like the Holocaust Museum and the African American Museum are so important — it’s impossible not to feel the reality when you’re standing in it.
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‘Now’ is the most fascinating time for historians!
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Thanks for calling attention to this day, in a very moving way. I remember where I was, and I remember where I was when JFK was shot.
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I get it now. It’s not just a memory, it’s more like a moment that’s seared on your soul. Thanks, Dan.
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I was (still am) in Sarasota, FL where then President George W. Bush happened to be when the travesty began to unfold. I remember driving to work that morning and there as an anti government protest on the main intersection of downtown. My company was conducting a large three day job fair ands I was headed to it. We were having breakfast at the venue prior to starting and someone said a plane had hit one of the WTC towers. I remember thinking that’s unlikely, or it must be a small plane and the pilot was in trouble. We ran to the room where a TV was on and it was jaw dropping.
Bush was visiting a local middle school and reading to the students when Security interrupted and whispered in his ear. He stayed calm and did not alarm the children.
Another shocking thing to remember from that day is that the terrorists lived and learned to fly in this area. Just a few miles down the interstate in Venice, FL.
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Thanks for sharing your story, Christine. I’ve found this particular event was so far reaching that almost every single person I know has a connection. One friend lost his uncle in the towers, two others lived in NY at the time. People have connections to the training centers or the airports or have friends that lost loved ones. Now that I think about it, I’ve never actually spoken with someone who *didn’t* chime in to share their own story about that horrible day.
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Yes, it is right up there with “where you were when Kennedy was assassinated.”
My husband worked on Wall Street and missed the train that day.
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Holy cow, that’ll mess with your head for a while. Thank goodness he’s still with you.
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I was in New York , two months later, when there was that other plane crash in Queens. Everyone also thought that was terrorists at the time, Manhattan shut down again -nobody could leave. A small taste of the unimaginable horror of two months earlier.
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You know, I watch footage of the city that day and absolutely cannot imagine what it must have done to them. That other plane crash was probably a big shock of PTSD for people who thought they weren’t affected because they weren’t *in* the towers.
Thanks for sharing.
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