Every year, on the 11th of September, I usually write something on my Facebook (or the past few years, on my Twitter) remembering those that died on this day in 2001. It’s hard to think that it’s been 12 years since this happened, and I’ll be the first to acknowledge that I was too young to fully comprehend what happened back. Hell, I still am. And I doubt I will fully get it. I wasn’t in New York, or Washington, or on flight 83. I wasn’t in America.
Nope. I won’t get it.
I will never understand the fear that was going through the minds of those that dove out of the windows.
But what I do get is over 3000 people died. In fact, they were murdered. There is absolutely no other way to put it. People have made it their purpose to politicise this tragedy, to call it a conspiracy in an attempt to shift blame onto others. I will not be addressing that in this post. This is a post for reflection and recognition of those that died so needlessly that day.
I will never be able to comprehend how, with so much death and destruction going on, everyone trying to get out of the towers, the Police and Firemen (along with other civilians) were racing up the towers in an attempt to save lives.
May the bravery shown by the New York City fire brigade and Police Force on that horrific day be used as a lesson in how remarkable the human spirit can be.
May they rest in peace.
May they never be forgotten.
Every. Single. One of them.