Patriot Day

I don't get serious very often. I don't think life should be taken seriously at all. However, this is one of a handful of topics that I don't take lightly.


A few days from now our great nation will remember those who lost their lives during the September 11th attacks. It's been eight years, yet to some it seems like yesterday. Still to others, unfortunately, it's almost like it never happened. I think a lot of people forgot what happened that day, which is a travesty in itself. Not only should every American remember 9-11-01, they should remember how they felt when they heard the news or watched the scene unfold and also how they felt in the days and weeks that followed.


I remember as a kid, my parents talking about the assassination of JFK. They could recall every detail of that day. I never understood the significance of this until 9-11, although, I could slightly relate when Princess Diana died.


That day is etched in my memory forever, as it should be. Every minute is burned into my brain. The day seemed longer than usual. I was watching the news when the first plane hit and I stared as the chaos unfolded. I could see smoke from the main road by my house that heads west. I watched building 7 fall through binoculars on the side on Ocean Parkway. My boyfriend at the time was a volunteer firefighter. My dad worked across the street from the UN building and my best friend was living and going to school in Manhattan.


I couldn't get in touch with my dad or my friend for a while, but I finally did. My boyfriend and other volunteers were called in to cover the city firehouses while their men and women were at ground zero. Some of our volunteer firefighters were also city firefighters. I didn't hear from him all day. I sat at the firehouse from around 11pm until he finally came back after one o'clock in the morning. That's when he told me two of our volunteers (who were also career firefighters, one of which was the Chief of our department) were missing at the World Trade Center.


I don't remember sleeping that night. Not that I sleep usually, but especially not that night. When the morning came it felt surreal, almost like a bad dream. One of our volunteers had come home, but not our chief, he was still missing.


Why has our country forgotten? Collectively, do we have the memory span of goldfish? How could the patriotism and love of country that emerged in the days after have dissipated so quickly? How will the newer generations of Americans understand the reality and magnitude of "Patriot Day" if they are only reading a few paragraphs about it in a textbook? I'm waiting for the day my daughter is old enough to grasp the depth of what happened. Not to sound mean, but I hope she feels how I felt, she may even cry and maybe she should.


It's sad that only once year Americans remember. We should remember every day. We should remember those who lost their lives at the hands of terrorists. We should also think about the men and women who put their lives on the line for us and our freedom every day, as well as and especially, the men and women who have made the ultimate sacrifice for our country. We should ALWAYS feel a sense of dignity and pride for our nation, no matter what political party you belong to, if you do at all. Our pledge of Allegiance and National Anthem should be recited loud and clear, regardless of your religious affiliation, or lack there of.


Even if you lived thousands of miles from NYC that day, you felt it. Even if you didn't personally know anyone who was killed, you still felt a loss. It's THAT feeling that made you sad for your fellow Americans, scared of what might come next and proud of the way we all pulled together.


We are AMERICANS first and foremost and with all the (democrat/republican/liberal/conservative) bickering; THIS should be the one thing that unites us… more than once a year.


I know I'll never forget as long as I live, even if I tried. I'll certainly never forget our Chief, Lt. K. 288 Hazmat. He and so many others gave their lives in an effort to save as many others as they could. Chief's body was eventually found in the command center of the South Tower. It was November 30, 2001, to be exact. There was a video that was shown on TV a few weeks after the attacks. He was on it. It showed him walking into the tower with his crew. He never walked back out.

Final thought: ‘Patriot Day’ should be every day.