Ten Years Ago.

Ten years. I can hardly believe that it has been ten years. That day is so firmly entrenched in memory, in excruciating detail, that it's almost impossible to think that a decade has passed.

It's hard for me to think about today's anniversary. Every year is difficult, but the "10 Years" label has been especially poignant. Part of it is the realization that my children will never know the innocence of the pre-9/11 world. Part of it is knowing that there are still those out there that wish to harm our country. Most of it is inexplicable. The anniversary brings out its usual swirl of emotions; they are all just particularly sharp today.

I haven't watched any of the documentaries or specials about the anniversary of the attacks. I haven't wanted to. I can't. But today, as part of my reflection and my healing process, I plan to watch one with my children. Up until now, I have never spoken to them about it. I know it's an important historical event, but I have wanted to shield them from it. I never wanted them to come away from a conversation about it feeling unsafe. But I think it's time.

I think it's time for them to hear about the heroes in the New York Police Department and Fire Department. It's time for them to learn about the brave men and women on Flight 93, who probably saved their mother's life. It's time for them to learn about the feeling our country had in the days and weeks following the attacks - a time of togetherness, cooperation, and spirit that I never thought I'd see.

I hope that passing along my memory of September 11, 2001 to my children will bring about some understanding for them, and a degree of closure for me. I want this day to not only be about mourning lives lost. Today is a day to celebrate heroism and be proud to be an American.

For my account of the events that took place on that Tuesday, click here.

Justice

"Tonight, I can report to the American people and to the world that the United States has conducted an operation that killed Osama bin Laden, the leader of al Qaeda, and a terrorist who’s responsible for the murder of thousands of innocent men, women, and children."

Last night was a typical Sunday night for me. Ten o'clock rolled around and I headed upstairs to bed. And, as per usual, I checked my Twitter account one more time before I settled into sleep. I started reading tweets about President Obama addressing the nation about a 'national security issue' imminently. And it wasn't about Khadafi. My heart started to pound - I was nervous. But why?

I turned on Wolf Blitzer on CNN and watched as the various journalists discussed what the information to be shared could possibly be. They were very careful at first to preface their statements with the 'unconfirmed' label. But finally, John King stopped all the tapdancing around the subject: Osama bin Laden is dead.

As I sat in my bed, alone in a quiet house, I surprised myself. I wept. Uncontrollably. It was a shock to me how many emotions were swirling around in my head and heart. Here we are, almost ten years later and I'm significantly removed from my old life in Washington, DC - geographically and substantively; literally and figuratively. It was jarring how much it still affected me. I felt like I had had a weight on my chest for ten years that I didn't even know about. And it had finally been lifted.

The death of Osama bin Laden will never bring back the 3,000 Americans that perished on September 11, 2001 of course. But, I truly hope that their families will feel some small bit of justice and possibly closure due to this triumph. The United States military and our allies around the world have lost brave men and women in this fight, and although we will always mourn their loss, perhaps their families can take some comfort in the fact that their sacrifice was not in vain.

It's been a painful ten years. Sure, we've all moved on. We had to. We've gone about our lives; marrying, working, having children. We've tucked September 11th in the back of our mind and threw ourselves into the healing process. But, we have never forgotten. The news of the death of bin Laden conjures images of the most painful day in our national psyche. But it also brings with it the ability for us to close the chapter. Now, with a small measure of relief, and an indelible vigilance that was born on 9/11, we can start to look forward toward the future.

"Let us remember that we can do these things not just because of wealth or power, but because of who we are: one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."

We Will Never Forget. September 11, 2001

Where were you nine years ago today? Take some time today to reflect and remember those brave and innocent Americans who were affected by the tragedies of September 11, 2001.

Nine years ago today, I was working as a legislative aide for a United States Senator. I was driving to work, and the only thing that seemed out of the ordinary was the weather. That particular Tuesday was absolutely gorgeous. The sun was shining grandly, but it wasn’t too hot. It was a positively glorious autumn morning.

I pulled into the parking lot of the Senate Office Building where I worked, and I heard on the news radio station I was listening to in the car that someone had flown a plane in to one of the towers of the World Trade Center. I simply thought, “Some idiot with a Cessna who doesn’t know what they’re doing. I hope not too many people are hurt.”

I walked into my office, and turn on the television. All legislative staff in the Senate offices have their own TVs to keep an eye on proceedings on the Senate floor. Everyone watched as the second plane flew directly into the South Tower at 9:03 a.m.

No one knew what was going on. Everyone was panicking on the inside, but we were all trying to keep it together on the outside. Our supervisor called us into the conference room for our normal morning staff meeting. She said, “I know everyone is upset and confused. But we need to stay focused.” As our Senator was on the Armed Services Committee, we had a National Security team, comprised of three staffers. She said that those three could watch the developments on the news, but the rest of us had to watch the floor, as per usual. Especially me, as the Senators were debating an Appropriations bill for the Commerce, Justice and State Departments, which I was covering.

After the meeting, we returned to our offices. At 9:37, as I was diligently watching the floor business, all the Senators and staff vacated the Senate floor. We heard that a plane had crashed into the Pentagon. My Chief of Staff came in to my office and said, “Get out NOW. The Senator wants everyone OUT.” I protested, “What about the CJS Approps bill!??” Looking back now, that was incredibly silly, but we were all losing it at that point.

What we didn’t know then was that Flight 93 had already been hijacked, reversed course, and was barreling its way back to Washington, DC with the United States Capitol as it's intended target.

I quickly dialed my husband, who had worked a late shift the night prior and was sleeping. “We’re under attack.” I told him, and the line went dead.

Luckily, our Senator had the foresight to evacuate us before the formal evacuation orders came from Capitol Police. Because of that, those of us that lived outside of DC were able to leave the city before they started closing roads down.

I got to my car, and tried to call my husband again on my cell phone. It took me a few tries, but I got through to him. I told him what was going on, and that I was coming home. By this time, he knew what was going on because he’d seen the news. While I was talking to him, there was a loud BOOM! I said, “What was that??” And my cell phone went dead. They had closed down the cell towers in the city. My poor husband didn’t hear from me again for another two hours, and he didn’t know what was happening or if I was okay. We never did find out what that noise was…the fighter jets scrambling, an explosion at the Pentagon, who knows…

During my interminable ride home, the radio was crazed with rumors. There was a car bomb at the State Department; the White House was under attack, etc. I also heard as the Towers of the World Trade Center fell to the ground. And when Flight 93 crashed in Pennsylvania. When I finally made it home, my husband hugged me and left…the city’s entire police department had been called in.

I sat glued to the television for the next eight or so hours. There were many times I felt I couldn’t breathe. It was all so surreal, so impossibly frightening. Silly as it sounds, I kept thinking back to the ‘80s movie “Red Dawn.” It was so implausible because no one could ever touch us, as we were safely entrenched behind American borders. And yet, here this all was happening to us. It was like a nightmare.

Needless to say, it was a day that will live forever in the hearts and minds of everyone who was touched by September 11^th in any way. And today, we take time to remember all of those who were lost in those cowardly, horrific attacks on our beloved country. I also like to think that they are looking down on us, proud of how our nation kept moving. Proud of how determined we were and still are to not let them break us. Proud of how we all stood together and proclaimed our love for this great American nation. Proud of how we vowed to never forget.