As I sit at my desk reading the news, and look at pictures depicting 9-11 memorial services, and especially as I remember those brave men and women who knowingly sacrificed their lives on Flight 93. As I look around the room and realize these babies - these seventh graders - don't remember. They were 4. They have vague recollections of their parents watching, and they comprehend, but they don't remember. I wipe tears from my eyes as I remember calling my roommate on my way to work, and waking her up to turn on the tv - thinking the DJ on the radio was playing a sick joke.
I remember her silence punctuated with "Oh my God", "Oh my God."
I remember the TV system at work being shut off so we could keep the day "normal" for our students.
I remember getting email updates throughout the day.
I remember, and I mourn for those families as their pain is still readily apparent on thier faces, and I pray that this country never suffers moments of horror like those again.
I remember.
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