On this ten year anniversary of the World Trade Center attacks, I am attempting to reflect on the way I felt during the aftermath of those events, marking the first day I ever felt terror in the sense that we acknowledge it today. Being only fourteen, I could hardly grasp the gravity of that day and initially only succeeded in considering the effect it posed on my own family; most specifically my dad, and his working at SFO. It was an event of unprecedented magnitude in my life. As the days went by, I still worried about my family, but I also feared for my country, I mourned the lost, and I admired the heroism of my compatriots. We sifted through the rubble and when we came out the other side, we had grown more united, more resilient, and more patriotic as a people.
Looking back on it all now I still feel shreds of the fear and sadness, but mostly I feel proud of the incredible sense of rebirth and camaraderie we have achieved as Americans. I pray that the families of the 2,977 lost will in time find solace and that we as Americans will continue to rebuild the cracks in our collective foundation.
Love to all, and God Bless America.
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