I well remember them,
and my soul is downcast within me.
Yet this I call to mind
and therefore I have hope:Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.Lamentations 3:20-23
It’s Sunday. A “lazy” one at best. Our living room is a mess and our son’s toys are scattered all over the floor. The first Sunday of football is so far a success and our pot of chili rests on the stove as it calmly waits for us to approach it for seconds… and thirds, and who knows? fourths!
But this day isn’t any other day.
For me, it was another day being a sophomore in high school. It was the start of the school year in a new private school. I didn’t speak English very well, but that didn’t stop me from excelling in school. This language barrier, however, did stop me from making friends.
I was sitting in English class when the second plane collided with the South Tower. I had only seen the Twin Towers in all of the Friends episodes, but I wasn’t familiar with their significance. The classroom was silent. We just couldn’t believe the images before our eyes… was this a scene of a movie? If they had told me we were watching a movie, I would have naively believed them.
My day at school was cut short as the administrators decided it would be best for us to go home. I sat in my mother’s kitchen as she prepared lunch. Her kitchen was our safe haven which overlooked the white-sanded beaches and mysterious blue oceans of Miami Beach. The images were still playing on the small TV in the kitchen. They were the same ones from earlier, but I intently watched hoping there was a change in the narrative.
Ironically, this was the most we had learned in one day.
Today we are reminded that power is an illusion when the two most dominant towers collapsed.
We learned about hatred in the world. We learned how much we need each other to stay united and not divided. We learned to tell our loved ones how much they mean to us because of life’s frailty. We learned real heroes exist and they sacrificed their lives for the well-being of others. We learned human desperation can lead us to do the unimaginable.
It could have been us jumping off the towers as the only solution to avoid a fiery inferno. It could have been us calling our families to say goodbye. It could have been us running through the cloud of dust and the flooding of office supplies. It could have been us collapsing with the towers. It could have been us in the planes with no chance of survival.
The weight this date brings to us every time doesn’t leave us feeling any lighter as the distance between the years which have elapsed widens. There now exists a whole new generation who never had to experience this day. But tragedy isn’t new to them. Tragedies now happen often.
Although we are constantly told how time heals our wounds, there will always remain our conjectures of what truly happened. Ever since that day in 2001, I am enthralled by the thousands of stories that have surfaced. I remain heartbroken because many lost their fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, wives, husbands, aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings, and friends.
Nevertheless, I rejoice for those who have survived miraculously. They are the reason we can never lose hope.
To all the victims, their families, and the heroes, you will ALWAYS be remembered.
To forgive is freeing, but to forget is impossible.
I had the privilege to visit New York two years after these tragic events and their resilience was beyond inspiring. Ten years after my first visit, my husband and I went for our summer vacation and we were able to stay right in front of the WTC memorial while it was still being built.
We had one of the best culinary experiences of our lives during this trip. Our desire to document our journey gave birth to this blog.
You can read more about our time here:
day two: third favorite f word is friends
Ally Velsor 