Remember September 11, 2001

Video or audio of the September 11, 2001 are rarely seen now. But, if you ask any of your friends or family where they were at 8:46 AM on that beautiful fall morning (a morning much like today's weather), they will most assuredly tell you exactly where they were standing and what they were doing. I jumped out of bed this morning to turn on the TV to watch the news and reflections on this horrific anniversary. The tragedy of overwhelming proportions, the loss of innocent lives, the agony of watching normal people who went to work, jump out of 110 story buildings....But, there was NOTHING on any major channel to reflect this anniversary. NOTHING. So, I decided to reflect on my blog and share my thoughts about that day.

Skip forward to December, 2001, Glenn Jr. took Amanda, Sarah, Glenn Sr., Jim W., and me to New York for a matinee of Phantom of the Opera on Broadway. It was an early Christmas present. We drove into NY, walked the streets near Broadway, attended the matinee and as dusk fell, we wanted to try to see Ground Zero any way possible. We drove our car toward Battery Park and as we got closer, it got quieter, almost breathless. No one spoke in our car....just three months from the attack, we were driving into the neighborhood that used to bustle with people, vendors, trucks, cars and now.....

We parked in front of a condo/apartment building and started to walk toward Ground Zero. Enormous lighting attached to cranes lined the streets offering light into the vast hole in the ground. The only sound were giant trucks filled with debris driving away from the site and empty giant truck driving toward the site. Make shift fence surrounded the scared ground and guards were standing around the parameter. Glenn Jr. is an active duty Marine so he walked up to a guard, we stood several feet behind him and the guard checked his ID and gave the "ok" to move forward. We quietly walked with Glenn Jr. around a building toward the actual open, vast, hole but before we could walk further, we met another guard. Again, that guard chatted with Glenn Jr., checked his ID and waved his hand for us to proceed. Now we walked past an office building that was still standing that had a coffee shop on the ground floor. The windows were dirty and water stained but the visual was intense. The tables still had different things that normal, innocent people were eating and drinking just minutes before we were attacked. Plants still stood inside the windows, with brown leaves, begging for water with their long leaves pressed against the window with the obvious look of neglect and as if they were weeping for the time that was different in that little coffee shop. Juice glasses, silverware, napkins....a plate with a danish that had a bite out of it. I stood at the window like my shoes were glued to the pavement. I could not move because the first wave of sorrow enveloped me in front of that window. Glenn Sr. took my hand and we continued to one more guard that stood in front of our destination. In front of us was a wooden deck with two railings and four steps that took you right over Ground Zero. Glenn Jr. spoke to the guard and he waved us over. We gathered together, not speaking a word and placed our hands on the rail to climb the steps. I placed my hand on the rail and felt the indentation of ink marks into wood. Looking down and lifting my hand, I read messages, hundreds of messages that were signed into the wood by children, Mothers, Fathers, Sisters, Brothers, Husbands and Wives.....the survivors who could only look into the hole and wonder if their beloved family member was in that hole. As I walked up each step, every area of wood, on the rail, under my feet, to my right and to my left had a message. "I miss you Daddy", "We're here, Mommy, to make sure you are cared for"......"Mommy, where are you?".....Getting to the top of the deck revealed a picture that is burnt in my mind for the rest of my life. The lights were bright, smoke and steam from the machines wafted up through the hole and quietly, I mean, quietly, men were working to remove debris and recover the missing people whose loved ones left messages that I was standing on. I could write pages about the hour or two that we stood in that hallowed ground. I wish that every American could have had the opportunity to visit and stand where I stood. We were speechless. We cried quietly and my heart and my chest where my heart resides actually hurt. I wanted to get down into that hole and help those brave men move all of the steel; I wanted to find the little girl who left her picture along with her Mother and hug her, love her.

So, when I turned on the TV this morning and saw NOTHING except trite conversation, election and political details that mean little to any of us, just the liberal media. I started crying. I was alone standing in the room, crying. I was praying for the hundreds and hundreds of family members, friends and neighbors who got out of bed this morning, put their feet on the floor to make themselves move forward when this day 7 years ago changed their lives forever. The Mothers sending their children to school today, still without their Dad, still alone and broken hearted. Or did they keep their children home today to reflect?

Please don't ever leave this day tucked away in your history book. Please educate your little children and reflect with your older children who remember. Pray for families, fire fighters, police and our government for all of the reasons that pertain to their experience and their role in the protection of our country.

I still feel the pen indentation in the wood on the rail. I still see the messages left for Mom and Dad. I pray that I will never lose that sensation in my hand. I pray that I will never lose the sorrow of September 11, 2001.