On September 11, 2001 I was only ten years old. Too young to really understand what was happening beyond my mom's simplified explanation, but old enough to remember.
We were in California at the time of the attack, which is where my family loved to spend a couple of weeks in the fall camping on the beach. Halfway through our trip, which happened to be the morning of September 11th, we went to the local laundromat to wash the sand and sea out of our clothes. I remember my mom staring at the TV, listening to President Bush speak with her eyes wide with shock as she took in the news, and then seeing it cut to a replay of one of the planes hitting a tower. I thought it was a scene in a movie, not real life, until I saw my mom's face.
I didn't watch for long, though. I had more pressing matters to attend to, like pushing my little brother around in one of the laundry carts.
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Rocking the overall shorts and Tevas. I was always a stylish one. |
I love this picture. My brother and I were so innocently oblivious to the horrors that were happening at this moment. We weren't a part of the terror and grief that gripped the country, or know of all the many lives lost. All we knew was that this laundry cart made for lots of fun as we made laps around the washers and dryers, occasionally glancing up at the TV that everyone was huddled around in stunned silence. That childish innocence can be a real blessing sometimes. I'm thankful we couldn't understand.
The rest of my memories of that trip are pretty scattered. Lots of half-mast flags. Worried people in the campground. Driving through the night to get home. My mom actually drinking caffeine (unheard of!) to stay awake. Feeling disappointed that we didn't get to the Disneyland part of the trip. The 4-inch bold headline in the newspaper the next morning that read, "
TERROR."
I sure am proud to be an American. It is amazing to think about how this country came together as one, despite our differences, after 9-11. Even as a 10-year-old I felt the surge of patriotism and pride, and I think my love of this nation was really sparked then. It has many faults, but oh, how I love this country. Every time I see an American flag, or sing the anthem, or remember the freedoms and privileges I enjoy, I feel so very grateful to call this land my home.
So, where were you when "the world stopped turning"?