The morning of September 11th was as ordinary as any at our home, getting ready for our day with two small children. The television was on to the morning news, and I distinctly remember telling Jeremiah as he ran up the stairs that a plane had hit a building in New York City. Little did we know the next few minutes, hours and days would change our country. I miss the days that followed when Americans came together to care for each other, and communities tried to heal. I will also never forget when we returned to Rice-Eccles Stadium as the things started to come into focus as a new normal developed. When the National Anthem was sung and the jets flew over, it took my breath away as tears rolled down my cheeks. I love this country and all that it represents.
We can never show enough gratitude for those first responders and others who ran headfirst into the danger at the Twin Towers and the Pentagon. Or the people who sacrificed their lives so that a another plane did not crash into a more populated area. We should never forget all the ordinary people who’s lives were taken that day completely unexpectedly, and their families who were left to pick up the pieces.
It was the first national tragedy of my adult life and I honestly feel it shaped me into who I am. My patriotism and love of family grew that day, and my desire to always let the people in my life know I love them. It makes me a little sad that my kids don’t remember that day, they were just too young. And that kids younger them only learn about that day as a moment in history. But we can do our best to teach them and continue to honor all of those lost through service, prayer and remembrance.
God Bless the USA.