It’s dark, and wet and all signs point to a break in the weather. The cars slapping water underneath their tires, and you hear the rain drip dropping on the window sill. Crickets, yes but only a few and very faint out in the afterthought of a September storm. The hum of the street lights fill your ears and another set of tires licks the wet world up into its rubber. When the moments of stillness fill the air and you are sitting on the shore of all your feelings because you had two glasses of relax and it has just occurred to you that tomorrow is 9/11. 

Nine one one.

Do you remember where you were? Not the morning of when you saw the smoke billowing out of the middle of a building (you had seen and been inside of on field trips to) in New York City. Not the afternoon when you realized what had happened to our great nation. Not how you felt at the end of the day when you didn’t feel safe in your own bed.

Think back. Can you even remember the night before? Doesn’t it seem like a different world evolved overnight? 

  (I posted this last year – now 14)

Imagine that. Most of us can’t. It has been the greatest loss of our lifetime. Not feeling safe, starting to stereotype, feeling like the world actually had the chance of ending and watching it with our own two eyes. I remember I was walking out of math class. I was in a “slow” math class (go figure I now use numbers and measurements for a living) that was broken up into two years, and I was already failing two weeks into my senior year. Anyway it was unbelievable, literally until the principal came on the loud speaker and told us what happened. 

I knew how heavy the situation was but it wasn’t until two summers ago, and I was on my way to the Justin Timberlake and Jay Z concert at (mother fucking) Yankee stadium when it really hit me.

My dad had planned a surprise for my sister and I. 

(Blog, meet ALLIE!) 

  

We were escorted by a retired NYS trooper (God bless you all) to an NY fire house. Where we were then hand delivered, lights and sirens, by New York’s finest, to the concert of our lives. (Fun fact, I had peed on three pregnancy test sticks before we left and sure enough all three said I was with child so that was just crazy in it of itself I’ll tell all later #inanotherblog.) 

It was on our way to see Justin and J in one of the most legendary settings there ever was. We were with 4 or 5 firemen and we were shooting the proverbial shit with them when I asked “so what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever seen on the job” and the strawberry blonde haired man scoffed at me and I knew what was coming.

In my favorite accent in the world he said kind of rhetorically “probley when the towahs fell” and the entire cab of the firetruck went into slow motion. The silence was thick. I realized for someone who always has something to say I was speechless. At 29 years old I knew better than to ask such a stupid question. Little did I know how those firemen wear that story around like a heavy cloak. After some ice breaking small talk I delved deeper. I asked “how long did you work that first shift when you were called to fight the fires?” With bated breathing and some pink flush coming into and then leaving his face a pale white he answered. “Novembah. My wife asked me to come home in Novembah.”

I gotta tell ya. I replay this story in my head a lot. I never thought I had a hero. I would say this person or that person or try to pretend I liked she-woman or some other female comic book character. Something stupid like that. But this man had instantly become my hero.

Like many of the men and women who fought for our country in the days that followed 9/11, and lived to tell about it, they are nonchalant and endearing. Peaceful and somehow thankful in their grief.

That day I took so much away from what was supposed to be a super cool ride to an unbelievable concert. Truth is, as beautiful as Justin Timberlake’s voice is and the way he moves literally could get me pregnant, I would have rather stayed inside that fire truck all night and listened to those guys tell their stories. Of selflessness, bravery, heroism and strength.

   
So. On September 11th 2015 let’s all stand together like we did on that fateful day 14 years ago. Smile at a stranger. Buy a coffee for the car behind you. Hold a door for someone. Say hello. Let us be as patriotic and as united as we were in the weeks that followed that day.  And for all that is holy and right and aligned in this world thank a police officer or a firefighter or any first responder for what they do. For what they did. For what they are yet to do. 

Would you have ran into those buildings to help? If you did, I thank you. 

God Bless America ❤️🇺🇸