Never Forget

It was our nation’s refrain post 9 11.  Here’s what I remember.

I was working in communications for Duke Energy, and I had a tv in my office to monitor the news. I saw the plane hit the first tower.  People came running into my office and were there when the second plane hit.  We immediately relocated to our emergency center. At this point we didn’t know exactly what was happening, but we were concerned for energy infrastructure, and we were in a building in uptown Charlotte. 

About the time we were settled in the emergency center, the first tower fell.  Planes were grounded and we realized we had employees around the world – some were in the air when planes were grounded.  We focused on decisions about evacuating uptown Charlotte and locating all employees while TVs in the center were broadcasting the tragedy’s unfolding in New York, Washington DC and Pennsylvania. The day passed quickly, and I and my colleagues were focused on the work at hand.

I walked to my car in the parking lot about 7:30pm. The city was deserted at this point.  When I got to my car I tuned in a local news channel, and they were broadcasting members of Congress standing on the Capital steps singing God Bless America.  I burst into tears, the horror of the day catching up with me. 

I remember crying every day for months when I read the beautiful remembrances written by The New York Times staff.  The tribute to a formerly homeless couple who found each other, sobriety, and happy, productive lives working at the Windows on the World restaurant still sticks with me.

I remember the phrases “We are all New Yorkers,” “America’s Mayor,” and “Let’s Roll,” Todd Beamer’s action call on the plane believed intended for the Capital, that crashed in Pennsylvania. 

I remember months later visiting Ground Zero. Recovery work largely completed; the site was a large, imposing pit.  No one in my large group spoke. We stood on sacred ground, and we behaved accordingly. It was one of the most powerful moments in my life.

I remember unity and national pride. There was no “them” and “us.” It was all “we.”

My college students don’t remember. They know about 9 11, but they know it in the way I know Pearl Harbor and John F. Kennedy’s assassination; an important part of history, but not something personally experienced.

Twenty-two days later, I go most days now without thinking about 9 11, unlike those who were personally touched by the tragedy.  But on this somber day, I remember. And I grieve for all we lost on that terrible day, and the national unity that feels irretrievably lost.