I Remember

You were already in bed before anything happened.  By the time your parents got the call, you were fast asleep in bed.  Your parents let you and your younger brothers sleep through the night.  After all, you were only eleven.  No sense in waking you up.

The next morning, you woke up at six thirty like normal.  You got dressed and set the breakfast table.  Did you start your math work early?  You don't remember anymore.  What did you do?  You don't remember having instant messenger yet, so you couldn't be doing that.  Come on, you didn't even have your own email address or Wi-Fi at this point.  All you remember is that this was as another ordinary morning.

You had no idea the world changed overnight.

It hadn't changed overnight for some people.  For most, it had changed suddenly while they were at school or work.  Most of the world knew everything was different, but you didn't know yet.

Your brothers were woken up with the usual amount of fuss it took.  Did you even eat breakfast before you knew?  Your memory doesn't seem to think so.  Your parents sit all three of you down on the couch.

"Something happened in New York."

They play the footage they recorded on a VHS tape.  You kind of understand what went on.  Four planes had crashed:  two into the towers of the World Trade Center, one into the Pentagon, and one in a field in Pennsylvania.  You see footage of people jumping from towers, running from enormous clouds of dust, bleeding, crying.  You see footage of the President speaking.

"Those people should go to jail," your five-year-old brother says after Mom and Dad explain it.

Your parents explain to him that these people are dead.

You're only eleven.  You understand this is bad, though.  Your mind goes back to Pearl Harbor.  You know this new event is just like that.  No one who lived through that day will forget.  You still remember you were sitting on the blue three-person couch in your living room in Asahikawa, Hokkaido, Japan.

You see footage of the President standing in front of the rubble, talking to the nation.  Firefighters raise a flag over the rubble--your generation's Iwo Jima moment.  Your country cannot be defeated so easily.

Your story is different because you were in another country than America, but you know in some ways it is the same as every other person of your generation.  You felt the world change.  You have friends who chose what they want to do with their lives based on the heroes of that day and the following days.  You share your story and emotions with anyone who wants to talk about it.

The day of 9/11 is the day of shared stories of lives changed instantly forever.

Yours is just one.