Remembering Sept. 11

What do you remember about the day our homeland was attacked: Sept. 11, 2001?

I remember it was just another morning of walking my dogs then returning home to find reports on television of a plane flying into the World Trade Center. Then as I watched a second plane hit. Then I knew these weren’t accidents. And I wondered, “Who would do such a thing?”

I remember going to work, but it was tough. The whole day it felt like wading through mud, like time had slowed. Would there be more attacks?

I remember rummaging through my stuff looking for a piece of black fabric. I found it, wrapped it around my upper arm, pinned it and wore it for a number of days. My homeland had been attacked, fellow countrymen had been killed.

I remember buying an American flag and hanging it on the passenger side of my car.

I remember riding a Greyhound bus from Arizona to Arkansas and sitting by a Marine sniper for a bit of the trip. Sept. 11 his unit was in the Pacific. They watched the reports for a while then began to pack their things, knowing they would be going somewhere to answer the attack on the United States.

I remember meeting Frank, a truck driver from the Caribbean. He was an oilfield worker and was ready to come to the United States to take a high-paying job in the oil industry. He was to fly to our country on Sept. 11. He finally got to the U.S. a month later only to find his promised job along with thousands of others had disappeared in the economic recoil from the attacks.

These are some of the things I remember here, 10 years after our homeland was attacked.

And I remember another thing.

How over the years since that bright September day I wished things were the way they were before then.