9/11 is one of a handful of flashbulb memories I have, and one of two that doesn't include the Red Sox winning or losing a pennant (the other being the night we heard of Osama bin Laden's death). When I visited my parents at home for their 25th anniversary on Tuesday, my mom and I were watching a Discovery Channel special on 9/11, and she asked me what I remember from that day.
I remember walking into the library with all of the 4th and 5th graders, and being given a piece of paper to give our parents once we got home. Someone briefly explained what happened, but not to the extent that we really knew about it. At lunch that day, the news of the attacks was on the TV behind the lunch ladies, and everyone understood more about what was going on. It was still obviously extremely hard to grasp, and I remember asking my mom what happened when she picked me up that day.
So what does September 11th mean to me? For a while, it was just that surface-level, write-about-it-in-class sort of thing, but I have a deeper connection to it now. I didn't know anybody who lost their life on 9/11, but I'm thankful to be able to see all of the unity in our country in the last ten years. America and its people have honored those who served, memorialized those who we have lost, and have become stronger since then.
There's always one picture I think about to represent our country, and it's the picture of George W. Bush on the mound at Yankee Stadium for Game 3 of the 2001 World Series. I don't remember the scene as well as I remember 9/11, but I do know that that has to be one of the greatest baseball/America pictures ever. It was a moment for everyone to come together, which has certainly happened since September 11th, 2001. It really is amazing what people are capable of, especially when they are all striving for the same goal as one.
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