10 Years ago at this moment I was working at a pub in London far away from home. Far away from the city I had loved. My best friend Jenn and I spent our last night in New Jersey sitting at an overlook looking at the New York City skyline. I never knew that would be the last time I saw the skyline intact. It was the last time. I had moved to London and with the way media is today I watched the second plane hit live on television at 2pm in the afternoon. I thought, just like many others, that it was a horrible movie. Once the events unfolded I wanted to come home immediately. I wanted to be with my family, my friends, the friends of my family, the family of friends, all the names of the people that I knew that lived and worked in and around the WTC. Everyone knows exactly where they were ten years ago, and everyone’s heart is still very heavy today.
I have been watching the news reports, listening to the last moments of people who knew they were living their last moments. It’s unimaginable and yet for some reason with all of the media and availability to sound bites the public can imagine it as best as possible, but no one will ever know how it really felt in those final moment. My heart goes out to the innocent victims on that September Day. I remember exactly what I was wearing at that moment in time. A green sweater with fringe that I had bought in camden market and a jean skirt complete with black flats. I still have that sweater although I haven’t worn it much since.
London was an amazing place to be at this time for the sheer support of others. My best friend Jenn, who now lives safely across the street from me in New York city, and I didn’t know what to do. We felt so disconnected from the city we grew up near, the city we loved, and the people we loved. We were taking a gap year between college and getting a job and there we were in London while our city, our country was under attack. We decided on September 14th, 2001 to go to the public memorial at St. Pauls cathedral. It’s an experience I haven’t been able to write in words and I’m happy I have a friend to share it with. We got to the service a bit later than we had planned and didn’t know they had filled up the church from the back to the front, we were let in and and ended up sitting behind Prime Minister Tony Blair. To our right was Prince Charles and The Queen. Since we had run out of our flat I had to pee and was escorted down to the bathrooms by two Royal Guards. It was all a very surreal experience. The service was something we needed to feel connected with the pain, and we did. Jenn and I sang our national Anthem with The Queen of England and The Queen Mum. I was proud to be an American. We didn’t realize what was waiting for us at the end of the service. As we walked out of the church one by one outside the doors were hundreds and hundreds of people waving American Flags. Standing in solidarity to their sister country. It was an indescribable moment. Although I wanted to come home I stayed in London until Christmas and it was the best decision to keep moving forward.
Last night I babysat for a six-year-old boy. He wasn’t alive in 2001 and I wondered what he thought, what he was taught, how was it presented in school? Instead we played twister, ate Sushi, battled with Storm Trooper helmets on running around his house. When he was getting ready for bed he asked if I could sit and talk to him for a moment. This six-year-old was a special kid. Very energetic, but very smart at the same time. I mean he begged me to order Sushi. As he was getting reading to go to bed he just looked at me and said. ”We are flying flags tomorrow in our building for 911.” I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t want to be the person to explain to him exactly what happened when I don’t understand how to explain it in a rationale way myself. So I just said, “that’s nice.” This six-year-old wasn’t stupid. He said, “I know what happened. I had a right to know, so my dad told me.” OH. OK. I wasn’t sure where this was going but he said it simply. ”Bad men flew planes into the buildings and killed a lot of people for no reason. But I’m thinking of all those people who were killed for no reason because they were heroes really.” A six-year-old who never knew what those buildings looked like up close said it simply, and said it best.
“Bad men flew planes into the buildings and killed a lot of people for no reason. But I’m thinking of all those people who were killed for no reason because they were heroes really.”
Sometimes kids say it best. Ten years, it’s not really as long as you think.
In memory of all who lost their lives.
Thanks for reading!
Amye
