A day to remember
Sep. 11th, 2004 07:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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rabidsamfan's thoughts on September 11th and started this as a comment to her, but decided to post it here, instead.
It was such a beautiful morning. I had decided to walk a different way to work and the street I was on was breathtaking. It was all happening while I was walking up this quiet, peaceful, tree-lined street, marveling at the beauty. I made it in to work and was told that someone had flown a plane into one of the Twin Towers. The second plane had already hit, but everything was confused and I didn't even hear about that right away. We were hearing all sorts of mixed up reports about planes that were unaccounted for, and rumors that one was headed our way. Everyone was in shock, it was such a hard thing to comprehend.
So many parents came early to pick up their children, just wanting to go home and be with their families. I remember sitting in the playyard with the few children who were left and a plane flew overhead. I don't know if it was the one that crashed near Somerset or if it was just a stray that hadn't found an airport to land at yet, but I remember looking up at that airplane with these innocent little babies who were so excited because airplanes were wonderful things that they loved to see. We were supposed to keep the day as normal for them as possible because they were too young to understand any of what was going on. So we couldn't have the radio on, we couldn't talk about our fears and horror, we had to put on a smile, sing yet another round of "Wheels on the Bus" and play the biggest game of 'Let's pretend' ever. Let's pretend that we are all okay.
I was born and raised during a Cold War. A war that for the most part was not highly visible. It was just a fact of my existence, the way World War Two was a fact of my mother's childhood and the Depression was a fact of my father's childhood. For these children, the War on Terror will be a fact of their lives, something they have never lived without. How will that shape who they become?
rabidsamfan's thoughts on September 11th and started this as a comment to her, but decided to post it here, instead.It was such a beautiful morning. I had decided to walk a different way to work and the street I was on was breathtaking. It was all happening while I was walking up this quiet, peaceful, tree-lined street, marveling at the beauty. I made it in to work and was told that someone had flown a plane into one of the Twin Towers. The second plane had already hit, but everything was confused and I didn't even hear about that right away. We were hearing all sorts of mixed up reports about planes that were unaccounted for, and rumors that one was headed our way. Everyone was in shock, it was such a hard thing to comprehend.
So many parents came early to pick up their children, just wanting to go home and be with their families. I remember sitting in the playyard with the few children who were left and a plane flew overhead. I don't know if it was the one that crashed near Somerset or if it was just a stray that hadn't found an airport to land at yet, but I remember looking up at that airplane with these innocent little babies who were so excited because airplanes were wonderful things that they loved to see. We were supposed to keep the day as normal for them as possible because they were too young to understand any of what was going on. So we couldn't have the radio on, we couldn't talk about our fears and horror, we had to put on a smile, sing yet another round of "Wheels on the Bus" and play the biggest game of 'Let's pretend' ever. Let's pretend that we are all okay.
I was born and raised during a Cold War. A war that for the most part was not highly visible. It was just a fact of my existence, the way World War Two was a fact of my mother's childhood and the Depression was a fact of my father's childhood. For these children, the War on Terror will be a fact of their lives, something they have never lived without. How will that shape who they become?
