Friday, September 11, 2009

I remember.

I remember September 11, 2001.

I remember being a rookie police officer, fresh out of the police academy with just 52 days under my belt. I remember riding with my training officer in the heart of Frayer in Memphis, TN when we heard on the radio news that an airplane had just crashed into the World Trade Center Tower and that the tower itself was on fire.

I remember that we headed to the Overlook Apartments to watch the news that was broadcasting live with footage of the burning building. And I remember being the only ones in the office aside from the apartment manager who had not heard the news until we arrived.

I remember being huddled around the TV, just the three of us, talking about what a terrible accident had just occurred when we saw something moving across the screen that then collided with the Second World Trade Center tower. We could not believe our eyes! And I remember the news anchors being in shock as they tried to make sense of what just happened in order to explain to the viewers watching.

I remember sitting, dumbfounded, in a chair in that office. Trying to comprehend what I just saw. And then I remember the fear that set in.

I remember my partner making phone calls. And I remember calling my now-husband and waking him up with the news that our country was under attack.

I remember my training officer telling me to get in the car and that things were probably going to get crazy for us that day. I remember us driving down Danny Thomas Blvd. seeing our TACT unit dressing out on the side of the road in their raid gear in preparation for what was to come. I remember second guessing my choice of careers and I remember feeling inadequately trained for an event like that day's.

I remember exactly how I felt when the towers fell, knowing that police officers just like me were inside.

I. Remember. That.

I remember the heroic acts of the passengers of Flight 93, I remember the plane that crashed into the Pentagon, and I remember feeling totally helpless as terrible news just kept rolling in.

I remember days afterwards watching the chains of people passing debris from person to person in an effort to search for survivors. And I remember the tearful excitement and chills I experienced each time I learned that another survivor was pulled from the rubble.

And man-oh-man do I remember driving down Frayser Blvd some several months later when news came across the radio that the U.S. had dropped the first bomb. And I was so proud of our country.

And I still am.

Because I remember September 11, 2001.


What do you remember about that day?