What a strange anniversary to remember. I was sleeping this time eight years ago, and woke at 9-ish to my roommate, yelling at me to come watch the TV. The first plane had struck the first tower, and we had no idea it was a conspiracy of terrorists, nor that three other planes were involved. We sat down and watched TV for days straight, trying to piece together the breadth of the thing. It was immense.
We mourned with everyone in this country for those lives lost. Those days were bleak and stand out in my recollection for their solemnity. People came together and mourned openly, photographs of the terror, the service; the hardened 'fuck you' nature of the New Yorkers broken, crying, bleeding. This transmogrification touched our hearts. I felt like I cried every one of those days, wondered at the horror all felt, bewildered with the blatant disregard for life.
Surely those moments were akin to the end of the world. Surely the thoughts we had were filled with fire and smoke, with plunging from high up on a building, our bodies too breaking in great booming strikes, the sound of the bodies falling from the towers our own.
I find today that I have in me a strange hope. These terrors, so well documented on TV, this death replayed a thousand times, a mini war of hell fought by civilians. despite all these murders, I hope. I hope that terror will not find root in a child form Afghanistan or Iraq. That they will turn away from the bleak nothingness of extremism. I hope for us as a nation, that we will not let the bright light dim, that we will shine as example to the world that we will rise up, we will hope, we will stride forward. We are scarred from that day, and it has become a holy day for the loss of life, for the courage shown, for the unity we felt.
Here's to a country still trying to find itself, in may ways, this eight years later. May God direct us, may we honor Him, may we honor those who serve this country virtuously, and may a tragedy like this never happen again.
On a brighter note, GO COUGARS tomorrow! What better way to see hope than in the Collegiate hopeful. Dream big boys, this world is yours.
And with that I am going to bed. Goodnight you humans, this night walker is sleepy. :)