Remembering 9/11

I was six years old. I had just started grade school. I was sitting in Mrs. Rogers' first grade class. I don't remember anything. Not the moment I found out, I remember no emotions. My first recollection of anything having to do with 9-11 was on ABC World News with Charles Gibson. My one and only memory of that day.

"Mommy, why are you guys watching this stuff? It's scary."
"It just happened, honey. This really just happened."

It was almost like I was asking if this was just a TV show. Like someone made this sadistic image up. People leaping off buildings and skyscrapers falling. People dying. Like there was a script and these were actors on the screen, not real people, and no one was getting hurt. This isn't happening in real life. Someone just made it look like it is.

I think my thoughts were right along the line with the rest of America's. 'Did this just happen?' 'This is scary.' 'Who would do this?' But everyone knew one thing for sure: It wasn't accident. No one just so happens to fly two passenger jet's into the same building, killing countless people. Not to mention the other two planes, one smashing home at the Pentagon and the other with its sight set on DC itself. Thank God for the passengers of that flight, otherwise we'd have been talking about rebuilding the Capitol building and elections for a new president.

Does anyone else see the images and watch the clips and silently think to themselves, 'How many people did I just watch die? How many little girls, who were sitting in their first grade class, will never see their daddy's again? How many will never meet their moms, their dads, their sisters?' The answer: countless. Because everybody knows someone who knows someone who was in that building on September 11, 2011. And we will never, ever, forget them.