I've tried to avoid most media coverage on this 10th anniversary of 9/11 but here I find myself posting my own blog about it. I can't believe that is has already been ten years. Though it doesn't seem like it just happened yesterday, it does seem like it was just a year ago or so. Throughout the past century, I think most American's remember where they were and what they were doing when a national event occurred; The bombing of Pearl Harbor, the assassination of JFK, and for our generation, 9/11.
I had been in Washington D.C. that weekend and had flown home to Boston on the evening of the 10th. The next morning I drove to my office out in Marlborough, an hour and half outside of Boston. We were all working when someone came running into our office, shouting about a plane hitting the first tower. What an amazing and horrific accident we all thought and rushed into the conference room to turn on the television.
As the events quickly unfolded we were told to stay in Marlborough until cleared to go home. No one new if Boston was also going to be attacked and it was safer to stay where we were. By mid-day we were told to go home. Directly home. Emotions didn't hit until driving through the toll booths along the Mass Pike. The green arrows were on all ports and the collectors were waving people through, tears in most eyes. People needed to get through as quickly as possible. Safety and speed was more important than revenue.
That afternoon, as my roommate and I were glued to our television set, the first of several military aircraft went zooming close over head. The first one evoked fear as we knew that all planes were supposed to be grounded. The next several fly by's were no less unnerving as we realized they were out securing our city from any further attacks.
Several days later I went to a flag ceremony out in Weston. You did anything you could to be a part of a community. As the flag was raised and positioned at half-mast and we sang the National Anthem, a cyclist taking advantage of the warm Autumn day for a country ride, stopped along side the rode, dismounted, removed his helmet, and placed his hand over his heart and sang along with us. Ten years later, that is the image that is in my head of national pride.
A few weeks later I had to fly for a business trip. Security was now military men in full gear, carrying machine guns. Machine guns in airports were only things you saw in the international news, not in American airports. Passengers were quiet, courteous to one another, quick to hand over anything requested.
Ten years later, something things have reverted back to pre-9/11. For some, life will never be the same. Living in Boston and working for a financial services company, you know people who were on the planes or people who worked in the Twin Towers. You know people who should have been there but by a twist of fate weren't. Ten years later I love my country just as much as before.
This is one of my favorite anthem's to America. During the events and aftermath of the terrorist attacks we witnessed heroics and courage and bravery and succoring.
My native country thee
Land of the noble free
Thy name I love
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