I can still remember hearing on the radio as I was getting ready for school, the disbelief of what was happening…I was 17 years old, a Senior in high school and that morning is a morning I will never forget. I quickly turned on the news and there it was, a plane had flown in to a building, the World Trade Center Tower, and then as I kept watching a second plane…I was in shock, I couldn’t believe what had happened either. That day was somewhat of a blur, many teachers let us watch the news in class that day, no one could turn away. I remember in the days that followed that teams of firefighters and policeman and anyone that could help, they were organizing caravans to go out and help in whatever way they could.
As time passed and stories unfolded I can remember hearing stories of kindness, of people helping each other, waiting for help to come, and the overwhelming support for the servicemen and women and volunteers helping to clear the debris and find survivors. The tapes of final phone calls from United 93 coming out with messages to the passengers loved ones. I remember all of that, the stories of love and kindness and support. As long as we remember and continue to pass on the story of what happened and then the love that followed, we will never forget and always remember. That would be sababa.