I was thinking a lot about this post today. I hiked to the summit of Blue Hills by myself, which gave me a lot of time to think. But, what is there left to say about 9-11?
I was at the Pentagon a little over a week ago and saw for myself where the plane hit. I actually stood in the rebuilt portion of the Pentagon, the tour guide pointed out a window and showed us exactly where the plane came from. Talk about spooky - the twin towers are gone, so you can't look out the windows that the people working there on that day looked out of and imagine seeing what they saw. But you can at the Pentagon, and it's an uncomfortable feeling - though a feeling that I would say is important to have. Someone was staring out that window at one point, knowing they were going to die. I was staring out a newer version of that window knowing that people died.
I've seen Ground Zero when they were still clearing out the debris and the buildings around it were still empty. I've seen it when it was completely cleaned out and was just a hole in the ground. I've seen the Pentagon rebuilt with a lot more security and stared out a window that had a plane fly into it. I've been to memorials, observed moments of silence, listened to the songs, talked to people about it, stared at the radio tower that was on the North Tower (it's at the Newseum now), I wore an American flag pin until it fell off my clothes. What am I supposed to be doing now?
Obviously I will never forget that day. I'll never forget Chris Casey telling me what happened, getting out of class and racing down to the institute, watching people jump out of windows to their deaths, staring up at the sky a few days later when the first commercial flights were allowed to take off again. There's a lot that I won't forget, and I shouldn't forget. There's just not a whole lot more I can say about it. I guess time does heal all wounds, it's just leaving a jagged scar on this one.