A Tribute To The Lost – 9/11

It’s an awful day in history. A painful reminder. A deep wound that will never heal. On the 11th of September, 2001, what could perhaps be described as the biggest terrorist attack of all time took place.

I lived in America at the time, albeit I was very young – I must have only been around 8 years old. My dad worked in NYC, and sometime in August, his business moved him to another office – his previous office just two and a half blocks from the WTC.

I remember quite clearly the teachers being rushed out, us messing around in the classroom, then the teacher running back in with tears down her face. They weren’t allowed to tell us. We had to find out the truth later that day, from our parents. Some children at the school never went home, never saw their parents again.

It’s an awful, horrible stain in my mind that will never perhaps leave. I was too young at the time to understand. But as I age, and as I begin to understand more about the world and about technology and people and emotions, the wound deepens. My family was nearly wrecked. Thousands of families were ruined by this. Countless people died. Few survived.

Sometimes you can just lie awake at night and really sit and imagine, why someone would act like this. Why someone would harm innocent people for the sake of destroying a democracy. People were working harmlessly at their jobs.

This is a tribute, a respect from me to not only the people that died, but their families.

This day didn’t just mean something to me. It didn’t just mean something to anyone. It meant the world, to everyone.