13 Years later

I woke up this morning and almost forgot the significance of this day.  (In my defense, I woke up at a little before 4 to go run, then came home and went back to bed.)  I got my big kids off to school and settled in for the morning snuggles with the baby.  I had picked out my picture for my Facebook page to remember the day.  I read the memories that my friends had shared. I took a minute to remember where I was and what I was doing.  I said a prayer for those who were lost and those who survived as well as one of thanks for the life I have.  Then I opened the local newspaper.

There was a picture on the far left side of the paper with a note that said to turn to page 6 for more coverage.  Page 6.  That's past the important stuff and almost to the local news.  It's been 13 years...only 13 years and the horrors and fear and the bravery and the patriotism was on page 6.  Is this how my grandparents felt after Pearl Harbor?  A turning point in the history of a generation was regulated to page 6?

I remember exactly the minute I heard what had happened.  I was sitting in class at William and Mary, learning how to be a teacher.  We had finished the first of the two back-to-back classes and the first professor came rushing back into the room to tell us that one of the twin towers had collapsed.  My classmates were in shock and many started crying.  The ones from the north could not get through to reach their families, so I called my mom to try and figure out what had happened.  At that point, not much was really known.  The professor called everyone back to order and tried to keep teaching.  As you can imagine, that did not work out so well.  She finally let us go.  I rushed back to my dorm room to turn on the news to try and figure out what had happened and what was still happening.  Then I had to do one of the most difficult things I have ever done.

I got into my car and I drove across town to the elementary school where I was student teaching.  I walked in with no idea what they knew and what they had told the students.  The principal had ordered all televisions in the building be kept off for the day.  The teachers had heard something had happened, but they knew very little.  They had to keep teaching, having no clue that the world as we knew it was over.

The next day was even harder.  All of those kids had gone home and seen the news or talked to their parents.  They came to school with questions and the teachers were left with the overwhelming job of comforting the youngest Americans.   Most parents have no idea how much damage control occurred at school in the days following the attacks.

Fast forward to this morning.  My second graders when to school in a baby blue shirt for one and neon green for the other.  No red, white, or blue for them.  They got on the bus having no idea that people across the nation are mourning for those lost in the Pentagon, the Twin Towers, and the airplanes that were hijacked.  The will never, I can only hope, understand the fear and the sadness that America felt that day.  Yes, there are books that were written to help children process the tragedy, but today's elementary school kids will never understand.

There have been hashtags reminding us to #neverforget and replays of the newscasts from that day.  But, what will the lead story on the news tonight be?  Something has happened in the last 13 years.   We forgot.  We forgot what it was like to watch those huge structures crumble and spread debris through the streets of New York City.  We forgot the images of a hole in the side of the Pentagon.  We forgot the pride that we felt through the sadness when we heard the voice messages from Flight 93.  "Let's roll" has lost some of its power.  We forgot what it is like to come together as Americans.  The Boston Marathon Bombings reminded us....a little.  But then, we were Boston Strong, not America Strong.  The paper flags aren't hanging in windows anymore.  There is a new World Trade Center.  Warships with steel from the towers are off on new missions, many of the youngest sailors oblivious to the significance of the ship.

When my kiddos get home from school, I am going to hug them a little tighter today.  I am going to let them enjoy their blissful innocence as long as I can because one day, something will happen that shows them how ugly the world can be.  One day, when they are old enough, I will explain the significance of this day.  I will tell them where I was and how I felt.....one day.