Never Forget
On this date, in the year 2001, my country was attacked. On September 11, 2011, the tenth anniversary of the attack,
I wrote a poem about what I experienced that fateful day. Here is my poem, "Never Forget".....
I wrote a poem about what I experienced that fateful day. Here is my poem, "Never Forget".....
I remember that day, as many people do. I got up, bathed, and
turned on the TV, to listen to the news, as I regularly do.
I remember putting on my clothes, and as I did so I heard the
anchor on the national morning show say that a second plane had just hit. I
thought to myself, “What?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??” I then went into the living room and
began to watch. I sat in rapt attention, as did many around the world. I sat
there, spellbound, unable to process what was happening. I was so engrossed
that I was almost late to work. I remember feeling like I didn’t want to leave
the house. I had to know what was going on. I arrived to work barely on time. I
found my boss counting money and watching television-on the TV usually used to
show movies to children in the summertime. Before we opened that morning, the
first tower fell. I remember that when we opened that morning, we brought the TV
out so our patrons could keep up to date with everything. So we could
keep up to date on everything.
Later in the day I remember watching the news coverage in between
patrons. I then had a patron come in who was quite chipper-in total
contradiction to the day. She spoke about what a great day she was having,
about the weather, this that and the other. She then noticed I wasn’t saying
anything back to her. I had been listening, not wanting to interrupt. She then
asked me how I was. I told her I was ok. She asked me why I was just ok. I
said, “Haven’t you seen the news?” The woman replied, “Oh yeah. My Father is
supposed to be on one of the planes.” I then understood why she was so
talkative and chipper-she was in denial. The reality of the situation hadn’t hit
her yet. She kept talking and talking and talking, more manic with every minute
that passed. The more she spoke, in her mind, she kept the horror of the
reality at bay. It was as if, if she stopped talking, it would confirm her
worst fears. It would make it true.
I was lucky. I didn’t lose anyone that day. I don’t know anyone
that lost anyone that day. In New York, Pennsylvania or the Pentagon. I was
also lucky in that I was busy working. I didn’t see much of the horrors of that
day, even though we did have the TV on.
I learned two important life lessons that day:
First-that we as a people are strong. I don’t mean Americans, I
mean people. People are fighting for their freedoms, against injustice and
tyranny, all over the world. We as a people are strong.
Second-freedom isn’t free.
© 2012 Esperanza Habla All Rights Reserved
9-11: The World’s Finest
Comic Book Writers & Artists Tell Stories to Remember. (©2002 DC Comics)
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