12 Years and a World Away

September 11, 2013 isn't a particularly special other than being the 12 year anniversary of 9/11/01 when the Twin Towers fell, the Pentagon was hit, and a commercial airliner was brought down in a Pennsylvania field by some courageous passengers, and our country felt exposed, violated, seriously wounded and more patriotic than ever before.

I was a college freshman at Kent State University in northeast Ohio on this day 12 years ago. I sat through my second week of freshman English with about 15 other freshman - all of us oblivious to what was happening a few states away. We all walked from that class on to what was next - for me it was a break so I stopped by my dorm room. My roommate was like a statue; shocked and on the phone with her parents she pointed towards the TV which was playing the only thing on any channel, the smoking tower of the World Trade Center that had been hit. At this time the thought was it was a freak airplane accident. As we watched, we learned along with the rest of the world, that it was no freak accident when a second plane slammed into the other tower. The rest literally is history, but those crystal-clear memories are etched into all of our minds.

What I never could have expected 12 years ago is where I am today. I do remember thinking what the horror must have been for those airplane passengers as they realized what was unfolding, or in the case of Flight 93, the courage of those passengers to protect the rest of us by making the ultimate sacrifice. How did their families feel when they got the call on-board and hung up the phone before storming the cockpit to take back control? I never thought of the crew. I never knew I would have to think of the crew.

But now half of my world is the crew and I freeze with the horror thinking of what EVERY commercial pilot and their loved ones felt on that day. They lost their loved ones, their colleagues, their passion for aviation. I can't let myself imagine it too much without coming undone.

Then I look around my desk at work and feel an enormous sense of pride for my colleagues. I work in PR for first responders. Paramedics, EMTs and firefighters are my colleagues and I have tremendous respect for them; not just on 9/11 each year. But I feel a sense of pride that they allow me to be part of their world. They sacrifice so the rest of us can be safe.

Today, I cherish my conversations with my pilot before and after his flights just a little more. Today, I can't say enough about what first responders give so the rest of us may sleep at night. Some of us are just lucky enough to sit on the sidelines near these people and closely orbit around their humble greatness.

I hardly doubt my generation will grow old without another "Where were you when..." moment . I hope we can reach old age without one. I hope our children can grow up in a world where they don't have one. I know for the most part all of that is out of my control, but what I can control is living today, tomorrow and the next and not taking for granted what so many others were robbed of, or what they gave so the rest of us may live. 

Respect your first responders, thank them for working 24 hours straight and not seeing their families for Christmas or birthday's, and for always answering the call. And fly with kindness because that crew is someone's whole world and you never know when they may become more than a hassle to your day.