It happens every year. Summer ends and it’s September all over again. And then it’s September 11th.
This time, it’s thirteen years since the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center that I witnessed from my window that one September morning as a junior attending New York University.
This is the second anniversary since I’ve lived in Los Angeles and Melissa and I will be going back to visit my family in New York later this month. Among other things, we plan on visiting the 9/11 memorial and museum.
I think that will be a good thing, although I’m not sure exactly what I’ll be feeling when I’m actually back at what I can only continue to think of as Ground Zero.
I was still in New York as the Freedom Tower went up and I was so happy to see progress in that construction and the first steps to completing the memorial that was already by then long overdue. Now that the 9/11 Museum is complete I think, just like my yearly trips there following for several years on the anniversary to reflect, that I should go and see the permanent tribute to those we lost that day.
I’ve just started talking about my experience that day in any form that lasts more than a few minutes. Not often and usually just before September 11th if someone asks, but that’s something. It still hurts to remember… but I will never forget.