This morning as I was listening to the radio, I heard the song “That September Day” by Alan Jackson, and I was inspired to look back and try to remember what my experience of that day was like.
Ten years ago, I was ten years old. Ten years ago today, my Grandma called my Mom to tell her what had happened in New York. My parents immediately signed up for cable television, so we could see the news and find out what was happening. I remember sitting on the floor in front of the television, seeing the footage of the burning towers. I remember for days afterwards, hearing the stories of survivors and hearing about the families who had lost loved ones. I remember crying. I probably wasn’t old enough at the time to understand everything that was going on, and a lot of my memories of that day and the days that came after that are a little foggy. I wrote in my diary back then that I was angry and sad, and that I hoped there wouldn’t be a war.
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