“Bessie, turn on the TV. A plane just hit the World Trade Center,” Dad yelled.
I ran upstairs and turned on the television, just in time to see a second plane hit. It gave me goosebumps, partially because it looked like a movie but mainly because I knew, even at 14, it was something more.
Eleven years later, and so much has changed. Some might say for the better, others argue for the worst. To be in NYC for September 11th is an odd feeling. I walked home last night and saw the tower lights. An eerie reminder of what remains.
Walking to work this morning, in my American flag button-up, New Yorkers smiled and nodded. It’s gorgeous today, much like the morning of 9/11. I can only imagine what New Yorkers must have felt, seeing smoke billow up in the clear, blue sky. It gives me chills just thinking about it.
Regardless of beliefs on who flew those planes (and honestly, after much research even I’m not sure) it’s a day to remember the lives lost. Remember the heros who sacrificed their lives to save others. Be thankful for what you have. Tell friends and family you love them, because in a New York minute, anything can change.