Every year around this time, people start to ask each other questions.
Those who were born before 1993 ask each other, where were you when you first heard about what happened on September 11th, 2001?
And they ask young adults born 1994-1998 an alternative question, do you even remember what happened on September 11th, 2001?
It’s a question that seems both fair and unfair. Many of us were barely old enough to remember anything, let alone an event that may not have had any impact on us at the time. For those who were in classrooms, the day might have carried on as usual. But it seems like people are questioning my memories as a child when they doubt that I truly do remember watching the towers fall. Just because I was only four when the attacks happened doesn’t mean that it didn’t impact my life.
My answer is yes. I do remember that day. Even though I was born near the end of that age range, parts of the day stick out very clearly in my head. I believe it’s because I was afraid the events would impact me personally.
While I don't remember every detail of that day, some things do appear clear in my head. I imagine the day began for me just like any other. My mom usually dropped me and my little sister off at our babysitter’s house before she went to work. We’d play with all of our favorite toys downstairs in the basement, and when we got bored of them, we’d move to the toy room upstairs. I don’t remember ever being bored, because we could move on to playing with the puppy when we were done with toys. We probably ate lunch around noon, and it was most likely some childhood meal that every kid likes.
Sometime after lunch (I think) is when my memory gets clearer. I remember the lights in the kitchen were off, though I don’t remember why. I was perched at the table, and the television was on in the background. In my head, I can picture the little tube TV (probably no larger than 14 inches) that was sitting up on the shelf. I don’t think that I was really paying attention to it because it was turned to a news channel. I was probably focused on eating and teasing my little sister. That is until I heard my babysitter gasp.
When I turned my head, I saw the blue sky, and then I saw the twin towers, tall and gray. And just as I saw them, I saw the first plane hit. It was no more than a white speck in the sky, but the collision caused dark grey smoke and bright red fire to appear. In my four-year-old mind, I believe the colors were mainly what caught my attention. I know that I didn’t fully understand what was happening, but I kept watching as the building started to fall.
It was probably around this point in time that I started to panic. As I watched the tower fall, I remembered that my dad had been away on a business trip. I knew that he was coming home, and so he should have been flying sometime during the day. I don’t think anyone could have convinced me that he wasn’t on that plane, even though he most likely would have been flying from somewhere on the West coast of the country. I don’t remember much of my breakdown, but I definitely remember the fear.
I imagine it was probably my little sister who finally calmed me down because she had no idea what was going on. Her happy-go-lucky attitude and two-year-old sass distracted me from the events of the day. We probably went back to playing with our toys until our mom came to pick us up. And when my dad finally came home, I knew that my small world was complete again.
It doesn’t seem like much, but it’s an incredible memory to me. I know that I am very blessed that my dad was not on any of the planes that crashed, because he is still in my life, supporting and loving me through everything. I cannot imagine the pain of loss that many families felt after the day.
As time goes on, it seems to me that more and more people treat September 11th as just another day on the calendar. My little sister, only a few years younger than me, doesn’t remember the day at all. She would have learned about the events of the day in a history class, just as we learn about WWI and WWII. Even though the after effects shaped the world we live in today, it will never be something she remembers.
After we reached the 10-year mark (five years ago), the ceremonies grew smaller and the events less publicized. The national attack gets less and less attention each year, especially from the generations who didn't live through it. Because of this, it will always be important for those who do remember the day to share their stories together. My story should never be discredited just because I was younger at the time. For I am from the generation that is the last to remember September 11.
