Wake Me Up When Sept Ends

It was that cruel milestone marker that reminds us that even the strong are weak. For our grandparents generation, it was Pearl Harbor. For our parents generation, it was JFK's assassination. For my generation, it was September 11.

It was a day that brought our nation to its knees, weeping for its lost and crying in frustration, as we began to collect the pieces of three shattered buildings. The tragedy was unfathomable; in that sense it was a defining a moment for everyone. For my generation, though, it was a moment that defined the rest of our lives. The way we approach the world changed; our everyday routines, such as travel and correspondence, were made more transparent but, more importantly, our awareness of the world around us was heightened. Simultaneously in that day, we became skeptics and peacemakers.

I distinctly remember climbing on the bus that morning after an early class. Bits and pieces of conversation spurred confusion. The bus became silent as it left campus though, the radio tuned to a newstation that was just beginning to piece the puzzle together. With the rest of the country, we sat in shock in front of the television as the story unfolded in the ensuing hours. We watched the buildings crumble into piles of rubble; we cringed at the pictures of the broken bodies; we felt the grief of death; we prayed for healing; we cried for those that we didn't even know. However removed we were, we still experienced a connection. The days became weeks, the weeks turned into months, and, before we knew it, it was years later. We moved on with our lives. I graduated college and moved to New York City.

I lived in New York City for two years, most of it on Avenue C in the East Village. On my way to the F train every morning, I passed a firehouse that had a tribute painted on the outside door to the firemen of that company that served that day. It was a small memorial to something so big; but it will forever etch in my mind the example of bravery exhibited by the men and women that day. We moved on with our lives, but, in our own way, we never forget that day.