Tuesday night.
Senior year of my University days. I was settling in on an evening of lively discussion regarding the creation of the dormitory constitution for the Cervini and Eliazo Dormitories. The past couple of weeks had been rife with arguments, but at this point we had settled into a groove and were working on each point, thinking of the legacy it would leave behind future generations of dormers.
I can't remember who got the first text message. Someone mumbled about a plane crash happening. We ignored it and went back to our work. One by one, the familiar beeps kept on coming in increasing frequency. I think we actually finished out meeting before we started reading the messages. One by one, we began to realise something was the matter.
Plane crash.
New York.
World Trade Center.
We all rushed to our rooms. Every PC appeared to be on. Every Radio. Every TV. People talked in hushed tones everywhere. We watched the events happening as it streamed to our screens. Was this for real?
It was.
Here we were, half way across the planet, our day ending. While in the East Coast of the United States, their working days was supposed to e only just beginning. And yet, that would be the last sunrise for many. Long into the night, we gathered wrote e-mails to everyone we knew, sent text messages to every number, checked with every relative.
We prayed and cried long into the night.
I never got to go to the the World Trade Center. I had gone to New York, years before as part of my holiday before going off to university. I had to make a choice when I was in Manhattan, go to the World Trade Center or go on the NBC studio tour. I was an aspiring journalist, so the choice was simple. After all, the Twin Towers would still be there, right?
It has been a decade since that fateful day. I had been back to New York, but did not go to Ground Zero. I had my own issues at the time and frankly, going there might have pushed me over the edge. The place still casts it's shadow over the city, long after the debris had been cleared away. It is a scar that will never heal, especially in memory of those who bear the deepest wound.
The events of that day in September still resonate. Though rightly so, the USA claim this as their tragedy, the world was a victim. We live a post 9/11 era. It has changed how we travel. It has affected every government's foreign policy. It has shaped our relations with each other, good and bad. We could debate for hours on the aftermath, the Afghanistan invasion, the 7/7 bombing in London, the Iraq war, all these events and more.
People got up on one September morning. They got ready to greet the day, to go to work, to travel, to seize a day in their lives. It may have been night time in the Philippines at the time, but the sun had set for so many.
It is for them that we pause.
It is for them we remember.
And it is for them we appreciate each love we have, each friendship we are gifted with and each day we greet the sunshine.
It was a Tuesday.
We, that saw Wednesday remember.
