I was walking back from my early morning yoga class at the College of Charleston. I was thirsty, so I went into the Stern Center to get a Diet Coke. As I walked in the building I saw a large crowd of students standing around and looking up at the one television in the room. No one was talking, which was strange, so I asked the closest person to me what was going on. “A plane hit the World Trade Center,” he said. “On accident?” I replied. “I don’t know,” he said. Being the news junkie I am, I decided to forgo the drink and instead walked as fast as I could around the corner to the ADPi house. I turned on the television and planted myself on the floor in the living room, just in time to see the second plane hit. My friend Staci came in around this time, and we watched the coverage together until both of the towers fell. I even remember everyone who came in and out of the house that morning to ask if we’d heard, and going up to Corrie’s room to discuss our shock and confusion.
Inevitably every year around this time, I find myself describing where I was (and listening to where others were, too) on September 11, 2001. It’s frozen in our minds the way tragic events usually are. We remember them vividly, and will still be able to describe them in years to come with just as much detail as we would have the day after they happened. When children who have no recollection of what the New York City skyline looked like with the Twin Towers are grown, we will still be able to tell them exactly where we were and who we were with that day.
I remember walking down King Street the day after 9/11 and being spoken to by total strangers. We had a certain bond as Americans after those attacks. A “we’re in this together” kind of attitude. We were united and proud, and we vowed to never forget.
To never forget what happened that day is the easy part. What’s harder for me, is not to forget how lucky I am to live in a country where I’m free to do whatever I please. Where my rights are protected every day by courageous men and women who put their county above themselves. I take it for granted, as most of us do, until something like September 11th comes along and reminds me just how grateful I am to live in a place “with liberty and justice for all” – and how proud I am to be an American.
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