A Change of an Era

There have been many dates in history that have changed the lives of many.  That changed the way people think, the way they act, and even how people see each other.  On Sunday September 11^th, we remember and honor the victims and the hero’s of Ten Years ago.  Just like when President Kennedy was shot on that somber day, the people who lived at that time can tell you the very thing they were doing at the very hour and minute that it was announced.  Just like them, those of us who where there on that date, and for the weeks and the months after, have our memories.

                  Memories of the many peoples of all races, religions, and political divides that put aside their biases and differences to join the family that was meant to be by God, joined by one common goal, to help their neighbor.   There were also the memories of the faces of the people working there; tired, scared, desperate and unsure of what was next. Unsure if we would have another attack, even if we would survive this attack.   I remember the smoke rising to the sky where once the symbol of pride for a city stood.  I remember the sirens of the Fire Trucks blaring, and a tsunami of humans running towards safety for there was imminent danger of a building collapse.   I remember, when the all clear sounded the reverse wave of workers running just as fast to get back to digging in the hopes of finding survivors not thinking about the impending dangers as if amnesia set in.   I remember walking to the red zone standing 500 feet away, the eerie glow in the night and the heat that radiated was unreal.  I remember thinking; this is what Hell must be like, unsure, desolate and chaos.  I remember praying, because I knew that survival would have been impossible in the rubble and that fire.  I remember standing at attention when the loved ones passed by us to visit the hallowed ground for the first time and without bring attention to our group, moving the red bag that contained the body parts of a soul, behind me and under the ambulance so the family would not see it. 

I remember treating the burns on the feet of the construction workers, because the rubble was so hot that their shoes melted and still they worked on till the pain became more than they could bear.  I remember the mountains of medical equipment on each city corner that was never used because there was no one left alive in the rubble.  I remember One construction worker by the name of “Moose”, who worked all night and day digging, he drank two bottles of cold water quick, and I watched him collapse in pain with all his muscles contracting, he fought to get up but dehydration had him in its grips.  I remember it took four of us to get him in the ambulance and to the hospital because all he wanted to do was dig.    

I remember the pain and I remember the tragedy and I remember the love the people showed.  I remember learning new word like Radical Islam, Al Qaeda, Osama Bin Laden, and I remember the hate I felt.  I remember the flowers outside the gates of ground zero.  I remember the looks that people gave us as we drove out the gates to go home at night, and I remembered all those that wouldn’t, my co-workers and my friends. 

That day changed a nation, changed many that worked at that hallowed ground.  I lost my ability to dream that day, and like many struggles to even look at a picture of that day without feeling all the emotions of that day.  I remember the change of an era.