I won’t write about the day today. I was stuck in a city on business, woke up to the live feed of the second plane hitting the second tower, and spent 4 frantic hours trying to figure out how we were going to get home before we thanked our deity of choice that we had a rental car and were and 18hr drive from home.
I won’t go into the pain the people in that office felt as they watched the news – praying and hoping that their cohort – almost like a family member to them – got news that his niece had made it out of Tower One. I won’t described how, in that moment, no one cared that they were losing their jobs – but only that there would be some good news among the bad.
I won’t tell you how I was up for 28 hours straight as my employee and I drove home – thru the night – to be with our families. I won’t describe how it was to be a few blocks from a Marine base or getting the call from my family member who told me stay away from Coronado as it was pretty much off limits to non-Navy, thus solidifying my decision to just drive home.
I won’t recount the images along the way. I won’t describe the Vietnam Vet in LA who stood on an overpass waving a giant US flag. I won’t describe the eerie image of a major airport shut down – closed with military keeping people away from even entering the driveway to it. I won’t retell the conversation in gas stations at 3am – where travelers like us traded information as we all tried to hurry home.
This is a day where life changed as planes flew into towers, passengers brought down a plane in Pennsylvania, and the Pentagon was compromised. We entered a time when rights were compromised in the name of safety, countries were invaded in the name of stopping the evil in the world, and soldiers were sent to foreign lands.
Much changed for us that day.
We should remember.
Remember those who lost their lives.
Reflect on what has happened.
Reflect on what we lost that day.
And never forget how it has changed us.
Ten years later, I think its time we take back what we lost.