September 11 marks the anniversary of one of the most tragic days to ever occur to our great nation. It was the day everything changed because loss, fear, disbelief, confusion, insecurity, and heartache emerged for all of those who called the United States their home. This was a pivotal point in America at a very critical time.
It's hard to believe how many years have passed since this scarring day, yet it's safe to say that every single person out there can vividly tell you where they were and what they were doing that very morning. For me, I was in the first grade— the last of this generation to have any remembrance of the day.
I don't remember too clearly how that school day began but what I do remember is being sent downstairs to the cafeteria and within a blink of an eye— friends were being picked up by one by one then within another blink of an eye, my mom was there ready to bring me home.
I remember seeing the TV not exactly understanding what was happening but instantly knowing it was something very, very bad.
Strangers aided each other. Strangers held each other. Strangers picked each other up. Strangers became heroes. This day managed to bring the people together through extensive prayer and support, just proving that there was still good in the world despite there being dark clouds hovering over New York.
As anticipated, due to these events, all professional sports were put on temporary hold until elected officials insisted that everyone get back to their everyday routine and the Yankees did just that, lifting all the spirits of New York.
They played until earning a spot in the 2001 World Series against the Arizona Diamondbacks. It wasn't until Game 3 that things finally turned for the better and I'm so incredibly happy I was there to witness it. My family had tickets for this game and I vivaciously remember listening to my grandparents yell at my father that my family was going to this game.
The security going into the stadium was overwhelming but no one thought to question it. The city of New York looked to the Yankees and oddly enough, so did the rest of the country. Everyone was rooting for New York.
I might have only been 6-years-old at the time, but this will remain my favorite Yankees game that I've attended to date. I remember it all. The fireworks, the servicemen and women, the giant American flag to cover center field and the bald eagle to fly over it— and my favorite part, when President George W. Bush stepped onto the pitching mound.
No matter your race, political standpoint, or which team you were rooting for, this moment couldn't have been more symbolic. "The House that Ruth Built" was nothing short of electric, patriotic, and all sorts of emotional because this first pitch wasn't just any first pitch— it meant everything.
When embracing the moment of being on the field, he raised his hand and gave the stadium a thumbs up. Bush's ceremonial first pitch was absolutely surreal. He delivered a perfect, right down the middle strike. This monumental moment assured the nation that healing could officially begin.
To wrap up one of the most beautiful stories in all of America's pastime's history— the Yankees won Game 3, Game 4, and Game 5. These three nights in the Bronx were so crucial and eventually earned deserved recognition of being one of the best postseason series of all time despite the Yankees losing in Game 7.
The New York Yankees might have lost during an iconic Game 7 but what they managed to do for its city meant way more than adding a new ring to the collection. The nation witnessed classic, nail-biting baseball with intense national pride unifying America in time of a crisis.
In honor of all those who've fallen, we will never forget.
