United American

9/11/2001 was a sunny, beautiful day. The temperature was perfect. It was a Tuesday. 287 was the bastard road it generally is. Everyone has a story, everyone has a hell to tell on that day 10 long years ago. I was 23. HRH#2 wasn't a wish, HRH#1 was a blond brown eyed baby. I still had a father. I was a newlywed. I was heavier. I was driving my little gold chevy cavalier. I was an administrator for a book company. I was an EMT's wife. I was a fire fighter's ex (yea before it was cool). I was friends alot of emergency service people. At 8:46 I, like the rest of the country, realized at that moment that I and we were also Americans. A privilege that was taken for granted until that day.

That is one of the defining moments of history in the country and the world. Everyone who had breath in their bodies knew where they were at that moment when the greatest city on earth was tagged for destruction. When the two pillars that represented the iconic skyline of a city that was a celebrated melting pot was attacked by a group of people who turned our own planes against us. No secret it was a United plane and American Airlines. United American. Take that terrorists. United American. The steam roll of hell came through the Northeast like a freight train. Washington DC, NYC, and the heroic every day people of Flight 93 in Pennsylvania. Ordinary people that were going to take their and our plane back or die trying...and they did.

We all saw the images on the television. We all wanted it to just stop. We all in some way screamed like our words would get through. We all watched over and over as the towers fell. Everytime they fell a part of us and the quilt of society died some. We all read of the heroics of the firemen that kept going up and up while everyone else went down. We all read of the jumpers, the phone calls, the heroics of everyday people whose only fault was going to work on that fateful day. Going to work so their daughter can be in dance class or their son can play fall baseball, to pay the mortgage or the car or the vacation. We've all heard the stories of the near misses and should've been there's. These stories are the fabric of the day. They are what make up the colors and feelings of that horrible day when we all realized We are American.

I am blessed and thankful that I did not lose anyone on that fateful day. I watched my ex-husband leave, I watched my now fiance leave and I watched countless friends leave. Leave to do their job and their calling. I sat on the banks of the Hudson at the Liberty Park and stared into the pit of hell. I cried I yelled knowing they couldn't hear me. Knowing he couldn't hear me. I willed my friends, the father of my child and my love to come home. I cried. We all cried. We all collected supplies, gave blood, sat in a group and said no words. We prayed whether we believed in God, Allah (yea I said it...read the Koran and you will see what a peace loving sentinel the book is) or believed in nothing, we still prayed. We prayed to survive. We prayed for the will to go on as a broken community and country. We prayed for the broken families and lives. We prayed. We hugged our babies and loved on our families.

The man I married and the man I am about to marry do not discuss what they saw that day. That is the cross they bear. I can't tell their story and I don't want to. I can only tell mine. I can see the sadness in the blue eyes I love every time those towers fall. I can see when he has to walk away to not visualize what they show every year but the problem is that movie runs in his mind with every mention. I want to know. I want to see what he saw but I will never ask. I know what I saw while sitting on the banks of the river on a chilly night in early September.

God bless the souls of those who went to work and didn't come home & the passengers on those ill fated flights. Don't let them be forgotten for being the heroes of their families and a representation of the American Dream. Somewhere out there is a family that's missing Mom, Dad, Uncle, Aunt, Brother, Sister, Husband or Wife. Pray for the moms and dads whose children were lost. They were and are someone's baby.

God Bless those families of the lost that were left behind. Know the country mourns with you not just on 9/11 but every day. These words and thoughts won't take away the pain and I know that but know that you're thought of. Thank you for the sacrifice you didn't mean to make.

God bless the hailed heroes of FDNY, PAPD, NYPD and all of those that went over that day. No matter where life took them afterwards. Brothers and Sisters in Emergency Services past and present will never forget that you were just "doing your job."

God Bless the lost 343/37/23...You are why life goes on for so many. To all of you a Thank You from a humble former EMT Jersey Girl.

To the terrorists...It didn't work. You may have gotten our towers and some of our souls but you also have a fight on your hands like nobody's business. Remember those planes? Yea...United American...We don't forget and will never forget. Through your callous, cowardly and atrocious act you brought us a unified existence where our country helped neighbors, mourned for the lost and strengthened our temper together and you are and will always be our target. We got your guy...Let's call him shark bait...You couldn't even face us yourselves. You used our planes. The best message we have for you is that our life has gone on and we may  be bruised and battered but you didn't win. I am not afraid to go to my New York City and you will NEVER make it that way for me. In fact, I will be there tomorrow. The only reason I don't like flying is the take off and landing but you guys don't scare me. This is the greatest nation in the world and your acts of 10 years ago didn't change that. Oh and by the way, you just got told off by an American girl...oh and one more thing We are One Nation Under God and may God Bless America...

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