Never Forget...

I am late in putting this on today, but I wasn't able to get to it last night. Still, it is such an important subject, and one that forever changed my life. It needs to be spoken of.

Today marks the 7th anniversary of the worst terrorist attacks on our nation. The United States watched as nearly 3000 of her people were literally flown into oblivion by radical terrorists. It still amazes me that there are people who hate so deeply (they call it love, love for Allah) that they would be so cruel to others in humanity.

I am waiting another few years before I recount my day. Before I share what I journaled that night before getting just 2 hours sleep and returning to work. I will, however, share a few things.

Each year the wound is irritated. It will never close for me, so it's not reopened. It is just made to bleed profusely again. Each year I cry....a lot. Each year I hear the horrific things that were in my ears. Each year I think on certain moments that the public will (hopefully) never know. Each year I remember the people who died. Each year I sit in awe that just three days before September 11, 2001, I was sitting with a particularly jovial and fun Senior Chief Petty Officer detailing my mission and why it should never be cut. Each year I can't believe he is gone.

I relive so many moments. It is true, I was in San Antonio, Texas....far from the exact locations of the planes falling from the sky. It is also true that I lost a couple of acquaintances and someone I quickly came to call a friend (He actually emailed me to let me know he made it back to Washington safe and sound). My typical 12-hour day, my "Monday," very quickly became a torturous, but organized mess. It took 20 hours before we were allowed to go home. I literally had 4 hours between shifts....

Beyond the images the various television screens were broadcasting to us in our secured compound were the things WE were covering. There were more obscenities screamed (and I mean screamed, not yelled) than I could ever imagine was possible. There were moments of severe fear when we (I) could not gain contact with some of our people in the exact areas that the planes crashed, with one person needing to be confirmed not on one of the planes (he called and checked in later). There were people from all walks of life trying to figure out how to get places from an Air Force Base because their plane was ordered to land there when the airport filled beyond capacity. And the sky was silent.

Well, not quite. The sky was filled with F-16's and C-5 cargo planes. The C-5's were heading back East. The F-16's were securing our part of the Texas sky. Otherwise....it was weird. My drive home took me past the airport. It was the first (and I hope the last) time I had ever seen the buildings and exterior lit up like a roman candle, and the air traffic control tower completely dark. The amount of planes not only at the gates, but lined up on the tarmac and flightline was incredible.

To this day I have nightmares. I wake up believing it is either still that day, or that it has happened again. My mind literally relives specific moments from that day. If it's this bad for me, I can't imagine what it is like for the families who lost loved ones and those who survived.

I have visited the exact spot in the Pentagon, I have said goodbye to my friend. I have marvelled many times at how well the "new" portion of the rings mesh into the "old" parts, and my mind has sworn it could still smell the jet fuel and burning electric. I had to choke back tears because of military bearing, but they were there.

The flag now hangs in the Smithsonian Institute Museum of American History

I have visited the field in Shanksville. I have seen the trees growing back. I have shared the site with family who visited us. I have stood in chilled awe in the middle of summer (I literally mean chilled...it stays cold at that spot), and been blown away in September. I have left tears at that field.

I have not visited New York and seen the footprints of the Twin Towers. I hope to someday, but have not yet been so blessed.

Today as we were leaving I said to my classmates "Please don't forget to take a moment and remember those who paid the ultimate price seven years ago." I was completely dismayed when one answered "why, what happened?" She didn't have a clue what today was until she was told. It's something I've heard others echo in their day. Some people have moved on so much that they have completely put out of their minds the importance of this day.

As for me? This day will never be Patriot's Day. This day will never be celebrated, it will never be marked with sales and picnics. It will always be mourned.

And I will NEVER forget....