Never forget
Twenty-five years ago the world changed. An already, perhaps, fragile innocence teetering precariously on a knife edge, was easily shattered like unknowingly weakened glass. What should’ve been a peaceful sunny morning, with people going about their day, dreaming their dreams, living their lives, was anything but. We’ve all seen the pictures; watched the videos in horror; hugged our loved ones a little tighter that evening, while many others sadly didn’t have that same chance.
I still recall the moment like it was yesterday. The phone calls at the call centre where I worked suddenly stopped pouring in, and there was an eerie silence — a quiet that was almost deafening in its cruel reality. I knew something was horribly wrong before the first words of a terror attack were uttered. I later called home on a break, to hear my dad say over the phone “One of the World Trade towers fell.” I was immediately incredulous at what I heard. How is that even possible? It just can’t be! I thought to myself.
It was.
That morning was a singular moment the perspective on my own life was irrevocably altered. What else is going to happen? Am I even safe here? Are any of us? What has happened to the world I once knew? These questions and too many more dominated my thoughts as I watched the scene unfold in front of my eyes on a TV screen.
Questions that went unanswered, because they simply couldn’t be.
It didn’t matter that it was happening so far away, it might as well have been next door. The emotions, fear, and anxiety were palpable enough for it to hit me like I was seeing it outside my window, even though it was through the virtual one we’re so accustomed to viewing the world in these days. Never have I experienced something so unimaginably real in my life, that it defied belief. All of it transpiring in front of my very eyes, in a world I never thought could feel so devastating in an instant.
It was a moment none of us deserved.
A quarter century later, the mental and physical remnants of that frightful morning still linger in the back of my mind — all of ours, no doubt. Like a dark, forbidden path upon which we dare not tread, lest the memories of what we witnessed expose the cracks in our precarious emotional facade. Yet on this day, as every prior yearly one since that fateful day, we must walk that path together. For there’s a chill wind that blows across it from the depths of the darkness we try and suppress the knowledge of, and it poignantly whispers to us a nonnegotiable, and inescapable truth:
Never forget.
All of us changed that day. All of us bear the emotional and visual scars that were burned into our hearts, and seared onto our retinas. For many others still with us today, they bear the tragic weight of immeasurable loss that will forever haunt their memories. We cannot ignore how this fundamentally changed our human experience, any more than we could undo the impact it had. What we can do, and should do, and must do for ourselves, for those grieving, and for those innocent people no longer here, is always remember.
Remember those who didn’t even have a chance. Remember the bravery, courage, and fearless will of those who rushed into danger without hesitation or question, in the attempt to save others. Remember the incredible, selfless act of passengers to stop another plane from ending countless more lives, by knowingly and willingly sacrificing their own. Remember watching the events unfold, seeing the faces of others doing the same, and feeling helpless and alone; yet at the same time, however, the acts of kindness, support, shelter, and generosity while we came together as humanity. Even through the worst of days, we still managed find the best in ourselves.
We will always grieve. We will always remain holding the pain of what happened. On this day, and on all days during this time, every year, we will always remember. For all those lost, for all those whose lives are emptier without them, and for all of us.
Never forget.
