Post #5: 10 Years Later

This picture shows my youngest sister, born 9/11/90, with my grandpa during a family trip to NYC. It was taken in late August of 2001 to capture a moment between grandfather and granddaughter. We wouldn’t realize the significance of the snapshot’s backdrop until three weeks later...

It was an event that altered the course of history and claimed 2,983 innocent lives. An event that turned September 11th from a date in the calendar year to a stand-alone title of the most devastating act of terrorism to take place on American soil.

How many people can remember where they were when they learned about the 9-11 attacks? Most of you, I am sure. I was in my Physics classroom. I don’t remember many of my high school days, but I will never forget that one.

Today, 10 years later, I look back on the tragedies. I listen to the names of those who died as they are read by the family members they left behind. There are mothers who lost sons, men who lose their wives, children that never met their fathers because they were born months after the towers fell… and the list goes on.

Whenever I remember that fateful day, I remind myself of this: it was hate that inspired the attack, but it was love that came out of it. Love for our country and love for the heroes within it. Some of these heroes wore uniforms while others did not. All risked their lives to save others, and far too many ended up making that ultimate sacrifice. I feel incredibly proud to live in the country that such extraordinary people called their own. And to be a part of a community that never forgets, forever honoring those who died 10 years ago with nothing less than love. 

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