These are some pictures we took on the 10th Anniversary
at the bridge near our home town, the local fire departments
I am sorry this is a few days late, this years Anniversary has been more difficult than I thought it would be. My baby is growing up, she is learning about 9/11 in school and wanted to watch some of the memorial videos about that day. My Lydia is almost 8, but as we have said since birth she is an old soul. She told us just tonight she may be 8 but she is going on 18.
"Mom, where were you when you found out about the towers?" she asked as we were watching one of the documentaries.
"Mom, how old where you?"
"Mom, did you watch them fall?"
"Mom, what did you feel?"
"Mom, how do you feel about it now that you are the wife of a fireman?"
She would ask me these questions every few minutes, or ask for a clarification on what was being said. We would pause the show and her and I would talk. It brought so many raw feelings from that day back, also some that since becoming the wife of a fireman mean so much more now. She would listen and sometimes we would cry together.
I was 18 when the towers fell, I awoke to my younger brothers telling me one plane had hit a building in New York City. No, it can't be, what a horrible accident.
Accident, it had to be. What else could it be? But deep in the back of my head I knew, but my heart did not want to believe that something, someone would want to harm so many people.
I sat that morning before work, feeling numb. Watching. Hoping. I watched the second plane hit the South Tower. And then I knew my head was right. Terrorists. How did I feel, shock, sadness, disbelief. But most of all the loss of innocence. I would never view the world through the eyes of a child again. This doesn't happen these days. We aren't at war, Pearl Harbor I had read about in my history books at school. The Civil War, WWI, WWII. This was history folding out in front of me, in front of the whole word to see in a way like it had never happened before. Live. We were under attack.
I got ready for work and learned the first tower had fell, the second fell as I drove to work and heard reports of other hijacked planes. My heart hurt at the loss of life, for the families, for our nation. I don't remember feeling anger though. Just the feeling that I had been catapulted into an adult world, a world that would never be the same. The evil that we try to shelter our children from, but I was no longer a child. Terrorism did exist. We were under attack, being pushed into war from an unknown assailant.
The next day my Dad, Grandpa Greer, and I moved my Uncle and his family to Kansas. The sky was so eerily quiet. The normally quiet roads through Wyoming to the small town in Kansas seemed packed with people. And we had no hotel to stay in. I was amazed that in each small town we passed there was no rooms. We raced another family from one hotel to the next trying to find the last available room.
I remember listening to President Bush and his "I hear you, and the world hears you, and the people who knocked these buildings down will hear all of us soon!" The pride I felt as an American, viewing the people "the helpers", the flags, the GOD BLESS AMERICA and hearing the wonderful stories of people helping people. Of Flight 93, and those who fought back. Sacrificing themselves, that others might live. I have heard it said that it was the first fight on the war of 9/11 and they won. I couldn't agree more. They gave a mourning nation hope.
I was 22 when I married my husband, a fireman. I was so proud of him, I knew the importance it was to him and even joined him until we started having kids. I have learned so much being a member of this wonderful Brotherhood. I have learned so much being a fire wife. I know my last few posts have been fire related but it is such a big part of both our lives.
At 28, the ten year anniversary Alex and I lay in our room watching a documentary on 9/11 when I heard it, a sound that at 18 I did not know what it was. But as former firewoman and fire wife it pierced my soul, it was the sound of 343
PASS devices, Calling out of the dust, hear I am find me. I cried on 9/11. I cried more that night realizing what that sound represented to the families of the fireman, and the fireman who were still standing.
And now at 30, having to explain to my children when they ask, Tell me Mom...Where were you? And knowing that they at such a young age are beginning to realize that the world they live in isn't always safe.
My Grandpa Greer fought in WWII, he rushed the beaches of Okinawa. We tried to get him to talk to us about the war, but he rarely did other than to show us the planes he rode on.
He wanted to keep us young, I believe. And I am so grateful for that.
Lydia attends a Charter School that classes go up to 9th grade so when events like the shooting yesterday we feel we must ask what she has heard. Make sure if she has heard anything that it is the correct information, and answer any questions she might have.
It broke my heart today as I watched tears run down her cheeks and she said "Not again, not so close to 9/11, why?"
"Why?" A question for so many events, but we never will have all of the answers.
There were angels there yesterday, as there where on 9/11. Human and Heavenly. And hearing Lydia say that put a smile on my face.
"It hurts, but I will look for the helpers. Angels are all around us."
This poem is one I have shared every 9/11 since that 10th Anniversary, it was written by a man whom I am pleased to call my friend. It describes best what I felt that day and still do.
We Shall Never Forget (9-11 Tribute)
Let the world always remember,
That fateful day in September,
And the ones who answered duties call,
Should be remembered by us all.
Who left the comfort of their home,
To face perils as yet unknown,
An embodiment of goodness on a day,
When men's hearts had gone astray.
Sons and daughters like me and you,
Who never questioned what they had to do,
Who by example, were a source of hope,
And strength to others who could not cope.
Heroes that would not turn their back,
With determination that would not crack,
Who bound together in their ranks,
And asking not a word of thanks.
Men who bravely gave their lives,
Whose orphaned kids and widowed wives,
Can proudly look back on their dad,
Who gave this country all they had.
Actions taken without regret,
Heroisms we shall never forget,
The ones who paid the ultimate price,
Let's never forget their sacrifice.
And never forget the ones no longer here,
Who fought for the freedoms we all hold dear,
And may their memory never wane,
Lest their sacrifices be in vain.
Alan W. Jankowski
To learn what a Pass Device is click
here.
