Today is the 10th anniversary of the terrorist attacks on the United States, where hijacked planes flew into the World Trade Center buildings and the Pentagon (and another hijacked plane was flown into the ground). And like many other Americans, I thought I would post my thoughts from that day.
September 11, 2001 started out as just another normal day for me. I was a freshman in high school and school had just started a few weeks before. I was on the cross-country team and we had a race the next day. I thought about things like school, running, and how excited I was to go to 10th grade next year at the high school building, which was closer to my cross-country buddies, and out of this 8th-9th grader "middle school." One of the biggest problems in my life was the couple who had the locker next to mine--I think it only belonged to one of them, but I never saw them separated and they were always making out when I went to get my books. I was thrilled to be in seminary, after waiting several years, and I spent most of my spare time over at that building.
Before school started that day, I was walking down the hall, talking to my friends. I was completely oblivious to the fact that the TV was on in every classroom. Suddenly we ran into one of my other friends, Jena, and she told us that something happened in New York involving planes and buildings. I had no idea what she was talking about and I thought she might be joking about something because she was smiling, happy to see us, as she told us the news. I thought to myself, why is she smiling and what is she talking about? Is this some sort of joke? (I don't think she understood what had happened either--she was just smiling because she knew something we didn't! That's how 9th grade goes, you know.)
Luckily the bell rang and I walked my confused self over to the seminary building. Seminary was my first period class.
The TV was on in seminary, too. Horrific images of smoke and buildings collapsing filled the screen. People were screaming, jumping from the towers, crying. As a seminary class, we did the only thing we could do to help: we offered a class prayer. I volunteered to pray for the people in New York and Washington DC and all over the world who were affected by the tragedy.
The next day we still held our cross-country race, but my entire team pinned paper American flags to the back of our uniforms to show our support for America and for those who had lost loved ones. Our standard "before the race team prayer" was on behalf of the victims and their families. That day we all ran for America. It was a very spiritual race for all of us.
I had no idea what the implications of this attack on America meant for my life. I didn't understand that I would grow up in post-9/11 America or even what that meant. I didn't realize that during college I would finally start to see the prejudice and racism that lay so deep in the heart of Americans because of this incident and want to try and change things to promote a deeper understanding and tolerance between the vast majority of Americans and Muslims.
I didn't ever dream that I would live in Jerusalem and Jordan and study Hebrew and Arabic. And I never in a million years would have thought that I would have worked for the Department of Defense in Washington DC.
My 9th grade universe was very small.
This summer I visited the 9/11 memorials at the Pentagon and in New York for the first time. The Pentagon has two memorials: one inside, with a small chapel and a wall of information to honor those who died, and one outside that is filled with benches grouped according to the ages of those who died and whether they were inside the Pentagon or on the plane.
If you go at night the benches are lit up. There are small pools of water under each one. It is quiet and the feelings of sorrow, pain, struggle, overcoming, and patriotism hit you as soon as you walk onto the complex. But it is a settled peace. There is pain, but there is also healing. This memorial is one of my favorite memorials in DC because of the feeling that is there.
In New York the feeling is much different. When I went the memorial was not yet finished. The area around the World Trade Centers was still an ugly scar, surrounded by chain link fences and still under construction. The air was filled with noise from construction. More than that, however, was the permeating feeling of anger, of disappointment, of sorrow. The feeling was overwhelmingly depressing and the anger was very tangible.
I don't live in New York. I was only there for two days. But it seems to me that New York and New Yorkers still have a long way to go before they heal from the tragedy of September 11.
Post 9/11 still affects much of what happens in Washington DC. The tragedy there was much smaller and affected far fewer people. The cleanup was much faster than that in New York. But the difference in the feeling between the memorial in DC and that in New York is that DC has found peace and New York has not.
This September 11, ten years after the tragedy that struck America, I hope that those who lost loved ones, those who were wounded physically, emotionally, and spiritually, and all those who have been affected by the tragic events of September 11 can find peace and healing. I think this Mormon Message youtube video is a wonderful story about a man that found peace and healing through Jesus Christ.
Here are some photos from September 11, as well as an op-ed about op-eds written September 12 2001, and an interactive feature with articles and photos about the world since 9/11.
September 11, 2001 started out as just another normal day for me. I was a freshman in high school and school had just started a few weeks before. I was on the cross-country team and we had a race the next day. I thought about things like school, running, and how excited I was to go to 10th grade next year at the high school building, which was closer to my cross-country buddies, and out of this 8th-9th grader "middle school." One of the biggest problems in my life was the couple who had the locker next to mine--I think it only belonged to one of them, but I never saw them separated and they were always making out when I went to get my books. I was thrilled to be in seminary, after waiting several years, and I spent most of my spare time over at that building.
Before school started that day, I was walking down the hall, talking to my friends. I was completely oblivious to the fact that the TV was on in every classroom. Suddenly we ran into one of my other friends, Jena, and she told us that something happened in New York involving planes and buildings. I had no idea what she was talking about and I thought she might be joking about something because she was smiling, happy to see us, as she told us the news. I thought to myself, why is she smiling and what is she talking about? Is this some sort of joke? (I don't think she understood what had happened either--she was just smiling because she knew something we didn't! That's how 9th grade goes, you know.)
Luckily the bell rang and I walked my confused self over to the seminary building. Seminary was my first period class.
The TV was on in seminary, too. Horrific images of smoke and buildings collapsing filled the screen. People were screaming, jumping from the towers, crying. As a seminary class, we did the only thing we could do to help: we offered a class prayer. I volunteered to pray for the people in New York and Washington DC and all over the world who were affected by the tragedy.
The next day we still held our cross-country race, but my entire team pinned paper American flags to the back of our uniforms to show our support for America and for those who had lost loved ones. Our standard "before the race team prayer" was on behalf of the victims and their families. That day we all ran for America. It was a very spiritual race for all of us.
I had no idea what the implications of this attack on America meant for my life. I didn't understand that I would grow up in post-9/11 America or even what that meant. I didn't realize that during college I would finally start to see the prejudice and racism that lay so deep in the heart of Americans because of this incident and want to try and change things to promote a deeper understanding and tolerance between the vast majority of Americans and Muslims.
I didn't ever dream that I would live in Jerusalem and Jordan and study Hebrew and Arabic. And I never in a million years would have thought that I would have worked for the Department of Defense in Washington DC.
My 9th grade universe was very small.
This summer I visited the 9/11 memorials at the Pentagon and in New York for the first time. The Pentagon has two memorials: one inside, with a small chapel and a wall of information to honor those who died, and one outside that is filled with benches grouped according to the ages of those who died and whether they were inside the Pentagon or on the plane.
If you go at night the benches are lit up. There are small pools of water under each one. It is quiet and the feelings of sorrow, pain, struggle, overcoming, and patriotism hit you as soon as you walk onto the complex. But it is a settled peace. There is pain, but there is also healing. This memorial is one of my favorite memorials in DC because of the feeling that is there.
In New York the feeling is much different. When I went the memorial was not yet finished. The area around the World Trade Centers was still an ugly scar, surrounded by chain link fences and still under construction. The air was filled with noise from construction. More than that, however, was the permeating feeling of anger, of disappointment, of sorrow. The feeling was overwhelmingly depressing and the anger was very tangible.
I don't live in New York. I was only there for two days. But it seems to me that New York and New Yorkers still have a long way to go before they heal from the tragedy of September 11.
Post 9/11 still affects much of what happens in Washington DC. The tragedy there was much smaller and affected far fewer people. The cleanup was much faster than that in New York. But the difference in the feeling between the memorial in DC and that in New York is that DC has found peace and New York has not.
This September 11, ten years after the tragedy that struck America, I hope that those who lost loved ones, those who were wounded physically, emotionally, and spiritually, and all those who have been affected by the tragic events of September 11 can find peace and healing. I think this Mormon Message youtube video is a wonderful story about a man that found peace and healing through Jesus Christ.
Here are some photos from September 11, as well as an op-ed about op-eds written September 12 2001, and an interactive feature with articles and photos about the world since 9/11.
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