September 11, 2001 was the day the United States stood still and Americans looked at each other in utter shock.
Ask anyone where they were the morning of 9/11, and the majority of Americans will get a look of sadness or anger. That morning I woke up on McCord Air Force Base in Washington state. My mom had married into the military less than two months previous. I spent the summer running around a miniature city with all the amenities you could imagine, playing at the park and swimming in the olympic-sized pool. Coming to western Washington with the almost claustrophobic trees and beauty lends to a temperate summer. School started and I attended off base. I had to leave and enter through a gate, always protected and always watched.
The morning of September 11 I heard no alarm. I didn’t smell the toaster strudels I so loved. Instead, I woke up to a phone call from my stepfather. You could hear in his voice something wrong even from a room away. He told us to turn on the news and to not leave base.
My mom switched on the news in the middle of our little apartment. I was sitting on my bed, listening to her when she said “Oh my God.” Being 11, I ran in to see what was happening and saw as the first tower hit the ground. My life forever changed in that moment.
You see, I was not born a military brat. I did not know the truth of what was coming. But I got an extensive crash course within the first three months of my mom’s new marriage.
That morning, I was not allowed to leave base, MPs in full gear knocked on the door. When my mom opened it, all I could hear where the squeaking and running of track vehicles. I looked out the window and all I could see was tank after tank driving towards the base’s gate. I watched as the MPs continued down the line of doors, knocking on each one.
My heart sank because I realized my country was going to war.
I did not leave base for a few days because if you left, you could not get back on. I was literally trapped. I was unable to go to school. I was unable to see my friends. The beautiful summer that I had just enjoyed turned into chaos and fear, anger and hate. Battle ready in a matter of hours.
Less than a year later, my stepfather was deployed. He served two tours overseas during the Global War on Terror, a war that has really never ended. Friends from high school who watched those towers fall served because of the way this affected them. I think about the firefighters, the emergency paramedics, the thousands of lives that were destroyed after they clocked in for work, and the heroes who ran into those buildings to save lives. The homes, businesses, and streets around those towers that were scarred, burned, and damaged.
And yet through all of this, hope shown through. The American people rose up as one voice. It felt as if we were unified exactly as we should be—but then I ask, why?
Why does it take a horrific tragedy? Why does it take a foreign attack on our soil for us to become united? When do we remember that the United States stands for one people, one voice, and one path? That path is freedom, liberty, and protection of ourselves when necessary.
Many people chant “never forget” on September 11. And I can tell you that this American, who was 11-years old when she watched the towers fall, will never forget. I will never forget the face of the firefighters coming out covered in dust. The look of horror as people ran away, bloody and confused. The weeks of aftermath as heroes pulled others from the wreckage. And the people who stopped to help someone in a wheelchair get down the stairs.
I am committed to the American heritage of freedom. I want to see that unity again. Please don’t wait for a tragedy. Please don’t wait for mass casualties. The time is now.
