Has it already been 9 years since that horrible September
morning that forever changed or lives?
It seems like such a short time ago.
I don't think I'll ever forget.
As it seemed to be across our Nation that day,
it was a beautiful autumn morning
here in southern Indiana.
I was taking advantage of the blue skies
& had just begun to clean my windows.
I don't think I'll ever forget that phone call from Bob,
telling me to turn my radio on
as the news was reporting that a plane
had crashed into a building in New York City.
I'll never forget the feeling of horror
of realizing that we were being attacked
as I heard of the second plane hitting another Tower.
Sometime in the next few minutes we made our way
to watch what was happening on television
& I don't think I'll ever forget sitting there
with Bob & our two children,
watching the evil rise from the black smoke
billowing from those buildings.
I don't think I'll ever forget how blue & clear the sky was that day.
And as our President ordered all aircraft out of the sky ways,
I'll always remember the absence of the jet trails
in the skies for the next several days
as all flights were grounded.
Later that same week, I attended the
National Quartet Convention
& I don't think I'll ever forget the feeling of patriotism & unity
as we stood to our feet, honoring those that had fallen,
those that had sacrificed,
& those that in just a few short hours had become our Heroes.
I don't think I'll ever forget how polite & friendly
we became to each other.
It became easy to talk to strangers,
to expose our aching hearts to those
who just a few short days ago
we wouldn't have even acknowledged.
I will always remember the magazine that came in the mail,
dust coated, & the pages filled with a gray silt that spilled
onto my lap as I thumbed through it.
I knew that it carried the ashes that had floated
through New York City.
I quickly put it in a ziplock bag & it still sits
on a shelf in my closet,
along with stacks of news magazines
sad souvenirs of that terrible time.
I will never forget how I became obsessed
with working on a scrapbook
of those horrible days.
Hours & hours of my days were spent
scanning the Internet for stories,
cutting photos from magazines,
& gluing them to black pages
to someday show to my grandchildren,
that at that time hadn't even been born.
I don't think I'll ever forget hearing one of the survivors
tell her story of her trip down those steps of one of the towers.
Even after a couple of years had passed, it was still hard for her
to tell of her trip down, & her journey to recovery.
And when the blue skies of September come each year,
and the sun shines through my dirty windows,
reminding me it is time to once again
do my fall housecleaning,
I remember that morning when our world changed forever.
I'll always remember.