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9/11, Family, and Baseball
20 years later and that collective spirit reminds us the importance of the little things
“Even the smallest act of service, the simplest act of kindness, is a way to honor those we lost, a way to reclaim that spirit of unity that followed 9/11.” — President Obama
At 8:46 am on September 11, 2001, I left my house to walk to my elementary school with my mom for one of my first days of Second Grade. I opened the front door, and it was beautiful out. The skies were clear and bright, and the air was cool. I took a deep breath and smiled. My mom never met me out front. Our living room TV was on the news, and they cut to smoke billowing out of the World Trade Center.
At that time, the country watched the scene in complete uncertainty. My mom didn’t. She told me that I wasn’t going to school and that we were under attack. I remember only being seven years old and thinking she must be crazy. America could never be attacked.
My mom brought me up into her bedroom, where my dad was lying down with my younger sisters. I vividly remember her locking the door as if that would adequately protect us.
