I don't remember a life before 9/11. A life without fear. It's kind of like how I don't remember life before my dad died. We all have these moments that shape us, that change who we are forever. I may not remember much about what happened, but I live every day with effects of that tragic morning all around me.
You see it on the housefronts with the American flag flying proudly.
You see it on the marquees that read "GOD BLESS AMERICA."
You see it on the news programs covering the war we're still fighting nine years later.
You see it in the airports.
You see it in the obituaries, listing the latest casualties.
It's everywhere. America is not the same.
I was only 9 years old and in 5th grade. I remember that we hadn't been in class very long. After my teacher, Mrs. Smith got the message, she explained that our country had been attacked and turned on the TV. Then, our principal came on and announced that the school was on lockdown, and no one was allowed to leave their rooms. Let's just say, we got no work done that day. We were just a bunch of 9 and 10-year-old kids, but we understood that something very big had happened to us. We just had no idea how big it was.
I may not remember much about that day, but I do remember this: I live in the greatest country in the world. The country filled with men and women who volunteer to risk their lives so that we can keep living our lives blissfully unaware of what other people live with on a daily basis.
Remember those who died that day.
Remember those still fighting to protect us.
Remember that there are people still out there trying to destroy the life we hold so dear.