As I think back on this day 13 years ago, it like most things, doesn’t seem that it could really be that long ago. Everyone has one of “those moments”. The moment that something so important in your life that you know exactly where you were, who you were with, what was going on around you. Aside from major life moments like getting engaged on my lunch break in my entryway, or finding out I was pregnant while eating a ham sandwich on my couch as Scott checked the results of the test sitting in the bathroom, the moments of 9/11 are still very clear in my mind.
I was brand spankin’ new freshmen at NDSU. I’m sure my sneakers were gleaming white and my backpack probably still had those plastic tag attachments on it somewhere from when I ripped the tags off. I was nervous for another day at my new school. I left my apartment early, had to make sure I left enough time to drink it all in that crisp fall morning. Pull out of the parking lot, head down the street, apparently going too fast. I got pulled over two blocks away from my driveway and got a speeding ticket. Well, good thing I left home early enough for the policeman to write my ticket. He did wish me luck at school, whether out of kindness or sarcasm, I’ll never know.
Arrived on campus, parked my car in the T Lot. Which still exists, but now has a giant T Lot Apartment building occupying a portion of it. A brisk walk toward campus with what seemed like millions of students. Some were wearing their new clothes and blinding white tennis shoes, some were in what appeared to still be their pajamas. Clearly, they were the seasoned veterans who were less than impressed that the first days of classes were upon them. Walk, walk, walk, worry, worry, worry- My pace slowed as I reached the Union doors. A new day, new classes, new people.
I felt like the tiniest fish in the most giant pond. I ran into a girl that I met a day or two before. I knew two things about her- her name was Melissa and we had our first class of each day together. That’s all I needed to know. We clung to each other for dear life those early mornings. What we didn’t know was what we were about to discover just a few steps ahead of us.
There was one tv in the Union at this time that I can recall. And aside from Melissa and I- every student in the building was hovered around it. We had no idea what they were watching. We stood towards the back and waited for a few bodies to clear out so we could get a look. Through the arms, legs, and backpacks, I see that it’s on CNN. I remember seeing the people closest to the tv with their hands over their mouths, eyes wide. It was so quiet. Not peaceful quiet, just- quiet. No one talked. Everyone just watched the screen. Once we realized what was happening, we did the same. We stood quietly and watched replay after replay after replay of the first plane hitting the tower. In my mind, I was scared. I’m away from home, my first attempt at adulthood on one of my first days of college and the first thing the world shows me is terrorism.
Melissa and I watch for a bit and head towards our first class of the day. The silence of the Union traveled into our first classroom. There were more students in my first class of the day than there were in my entire hometown K-12. Our teacher arrived and started class a minute or two late. She was wearing a red sweater, black pants and had a tissue in her hand. Her words to us that day were very few, but very powerful. “I will not hold my classes today. My suggestion to you is to go home and pray for our country.” She wiped her face and walked out of the hall.
The movement of the bodies reminded me of that of a funeral. Everyone moves quietly, slowly, heads down, somberly. I left, got in my car and drove home. The radio station was covering the latest events. I got home to my apartment and turned the tv on. It’s then I learned of the second plane. The videos continued to replay as they did earlier. Being a young adult at that time, I wondered if I was safe. I wondered who wasn’t safe. I wondered why.
Looking at today, I wonder when Jovie will ask me questions about this. More so- I wonder how I will respond. I want to reply with truth and honesty. But I don’t want to paint a world of anger and hatred. I want her to feel safe in this country and know that it is the best place on Earth to live. I want her to know how many men and women work hard every single day to make sure that we are as safe as we can be. I want her to say thank you. But I want her to be educated, I want her to know that life is going to be full of moments when you don’t get to see the beauty of everyday life because there is so much ugly in the world. I want her to be a contributing person in the world to do her part to show others that the good of the world is still very, very present. I recently read something in regards to Mr. Roger’s. He said when he was a young boy and he’d see something scary on the news his mom would tell him, “Look for the helpers.” What a beautiful and simple way to show that amongst the ugly and evil, there are always helpers. I, as a mother, want to raise Jovie by example, to be just that- a helper.
Just My Luck 
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