9/11

It is hard to believe that it has been 10 years since that horrible day.

My husband and I were in London looking at rental properties.  We were in an estate agent’s car and heard that America was being bombed.  It was still quite early – and the international community wasn’t sure what exactly was happening.  I asked the realtor, “What was that?  What are they saying?”  He replied, “America is under attack.”  I started laughing.  I thought it was a joke.  I remember saying, “I’m sorry, but that could never happen.”  My 24 year old self thought, naively that everyone loved America and that our country couldn’t be a place that was bombed or attacked.

It was surreal.  Shortly after hearing that report Luke received a phone call from his soon to be employer that they could no longer employ him because the head of the NY office was killed in the twin towers.  Our plans were shattered.  We walked through North London back to Luke’s brother’s house,  tears streaming down my face.  We were defeated.  I didn’t know if my family in the United States was safe.  I didn’t know about my sister, a flight attendent.  I couldn’t get through on the phone lines.

People were going crazy in London.  The tubes and buses were shut down.  Everyone thought London was going to be next.

Thankfully my family was okay.  My sister wasn’t on the planes.  We got back to Luke’s brother’s flat and started watching the footage on TV.  It was the day of his brother’s graduation and Luke’s parents were also there.  The images on the TV didn’t look real.  Like some really bad CGI effects.  It had to be unreal.  Why would someone deliberately fly planes into buildings?

They kept replaying the first plane hitting – it must have been an accident and then the next plane – it must not be an accident.  Terrorism. It is a word that wasn’t in my vocabulary up to this point.

Prior to 9/11, I always thought it would have been easier to be English so Luke and I could be together and I wouldn’t have to worry about visas.  Then the attacks happened and I realized how proud I am of my country.  How proud I am to be an American.  There were so many heroes that day – fire fighters, police, regular people.

Today is the 10th anniversary.  We will see footage of the towers.  We will hear the stories of the heroes.  We will remember those who perished in the attacks.  We will hear the stories of the children born after 9/11 – those who didn’t know their fathers or mothers.  I read about Ariel Jacobs’ son in People magazine.  Ariel was the CEO in the New York office for the company Luke, in fact went to work for in London.  It read, “Every year on 9/11, we send balloons up to my dad, Ari, with notes.  We write about things we want to talk to him about, or I give him an update on how my life is going.  Mostly it’s, ‘I miss you’ or ‘Life’s going great’ or ‘I just won a championship in baseball.” Ari was only 29 years old and never met his son.

I can’t help but think of my own sons; it is an unbearable thought.  I can’t imagine them not knowing their father.  What about our world?  Is it safer?  I hope so.  On this day, I’m reminded of one of my favorite songs, Imagine by John Lennon, and wish September 11th never happened.  We remember.