It’s hard to imagine that 17 years have gone by since the attacks of 9-11.
I remember it vividly. I was on the jetway boarding a plane in a Houston, TX when we were stopped at the door of the plane and herded back into the terminal. There was all our luggage in a roped off area being inspected by bomb sniffing dogs. The televisions were off and we had no idea what was happening. There were police and national guard everywhere.
Once our luggage was returned to us we were told all flights were cancelled and we should remain in the terminal unless we were locals and could return home.
Since I was local at that time I made my way back to my car and it was during the drive home that I learned from the radio what had happened, and was happening.
Once home I sat glued to the tv for the next 12 hours in horror and disbelief. After I couldn’t take any more I drove 90 minutes to the beach at Galveston and just sat there for hours wanting to experience something like normalcy, watching and listening to the ebb and flow of the tides. Even the sound of the water couldn’t hide the eerie silence of the missing air traffic.
I went back home the next day just numb, my mind refusing to grasp the life altering events that were still unfolding. And I stayed that way for several days until it started to sink in...then the overwhelming pain and grief began.
My job at that time involved visiting first responders both civil and military. For months afterward we shared stories and tears. To this day they all have a special place in my heart, and always will.
Bless those who give their time and too often their lives to help keep our communities and our nation safe.