A day to remember...

Words always fail me on this day. I personally do not know anyone that lost a husband, wife, child, daughter, son, aunt, uncle, cousin, etc. in the attacks 7 years ago. But, this day affects me. Always has, always will.

I was 20 years old. It was my first day of biology lab. I woke up, turned on the radio and hopped in the shower. The DJs were talking about this situation and I couldn't figure out what they were talking about since I had joined in the middle of it. I almost thought it was a joke at first. But the more they talked, and by the tones of their voices, I knew it wasn't. I got out of the shower, grabbed a towel and ran to turn on the tv. Words failed me at that point. I called my dad, crying, asking what was going on. He said he didn't know but he knew it would definitely be in the history books of his grandchildren.

Then the second plane hit. It seemed like it was slow motion as the plane came in from the side of the screen. All I could say was, "There's another plane! It's going to hit! There's another plane!" And it did. And my dad and I were shocked into silence.

I fought with myself over whether or not I should go to class. The responsible side of me won and I rushed to class. I was distracted by the images in my head. I couldn't pay attention. Some of the students didn't even know what was going on! Did they not own a tv or radio? Our lab assistant said we would be there half an hour, tops. We were there the full 2 1/2 hours. After about 30 minutes, all the students became restless. There were whispers about how disrespectful they thought she was being. I just wanted to get a tv.

On the first anniversary of the attacks, I got on a plane. Two days later was my grandparents 50 wedding anniversary and my aunts and mom were planning a big surprise party for them. I wanted to come home to help. I remember people asking me if I was scared to get on a plane that day. I joked, "No. Who would want to hijack a plane from Lubbock to Dallas??" But, when I got to the airport, I was terrified. This next part might sound a bit racist/judgemental/stereotypical/whatever you want to call it, but it's the truth. There was a Muslim man dressed in full Muslim gear boarding my very same plane. I knew he had gone through the 2 hours of security I had gone through, but I was still scared. I heard him on the phone talking to someone about how just because he was dressed like that, they practically strip searched him in the back. But, I was still uneasy. As was everyone else at the gate that day. Most people were looking at him out of the side of their eyes. Some were just flat out glaring. I was looking at everyone else's reaction.

I now understand why I had my fears. But, I feel like a total hypocrite for having them. Anyone who knows me knows that I am one of the most accepting, understanding, sympathetic, whatever you want to call it to everyone in this world. I know several Muslims that are the sweetest, kindest, most giving people in the world. I knew it was a small majority of the population that decided to terrorize our country that day. But, I still judged that man in the airport. I still felt frightened.

Seven years after the airport incident, I no longer feel that way. I am no more frightened of a Muslim person now than I was before the attacks (which was none at all). My boss is Muslim and he is the best boss I have ever worked for. Calm, mild-mannered, extreme family-man...generous.

I still haven't forgotten that fateful day, and I never will. I am a proud American...and am proud to still be able to embrace people for who they are. But I will always remember this day for all the thousands and thousands of people that died...and the families that still suffer.

Never Forget!