9/11

Tomorrow marks the anniversary of one of the days in America's history that will never be forgotten. I was in grade school when it happened. I remember watching the Twin Towers smoke their lives out into the sky. Then, I remember watching them fold in on themselves, collapsing like paper. Steel girders were twisted and broken glass littered the ground as I watched the smoke fade on television. I was too young to fully comprehend the damage, but a trip to Ground Zero some years later helped enhance my understanding a bit more. The place where the Twin Towers had once stood was now almost a crater in the ground. Flowers lined the fence around the perimeter, along with notes to loved ones who just hadn't been able to make it out. There were plaques and pictures of the day, and I winced to see some of the photographs of those injured. How terrifying it must have been, to be caught inside a building that was falling apart. However, the scene wasn't completely one of despair. Some of the plaques told stories of heroes. The firefighters who had worked to save as many lives as possible. The medical teams that had worked non-stop to mend people. The search teams that worked for days after, scouring the wreckage for any sign of survivors. Also, the everyday citizens who helped drag others out of harms way. So when I think of 9/11, I don't just think of how much of a tragedy it was, I also think of all of those who risked their lives to help others. It's a bit of a bittersweet taste. But bittersweet is better than just bitter, right?