Tomorrow is September 11th. I remember where I was on that day. As we all do. At least those of us old enough to remember. I didn’t directly know anyone that died. But we were all touched. Our lives changed. Forever. I was driving into work that morning when I heard it on the radio. I didn’t know that gravity then. It wasn’t real yet. In some ways it still doesn’t seam real. When I got to work, everyone was belly to the bar. The whole restaurant staff. Mesmerized by the events unfolding. Eyes glued to the tv. No one talking. Bound together in that moment. Scared. Motionless. Paralyzed. This experience is not different than I’m sure we all had that day.
And yet, the true memory of that day is not solely of tragedy. It is those that chose to be the voice of hope. The voice of calm. The leaders when we didn’t know what to do. I remember that voice. I remember that man. He was my hero that day. I am sure that he was as scared and broken and hurt and terrified as anyone. But when I hear the voice in the memory it was unwavering. Be free to feel. Be free to hurt. Be free to cry. But be strong in the knowledge that we are free. aj