I remember fear. Eyes were as bright as a four-year olds could be setting off to one of her first days of school. The September air was crisp as I held my daddy’s hand while he walked me to school in my new outfit. The day was like any other in my private school in Park Slope. The rest of the day is a blur, there but distant in my memory. I can remember the feeling of fear surmerge in my throat as my daddy once again took my hand leading me home from school early like many of the other students. I can remember the feeling of fear when my daddy told me he had to leave to go to the Towers where the whereabouts of my uncle, a NY firefighter were undetermined. I can remember the fear of letting go of my daddy’s hand wondering if he would ever come back. My mother, pregnant at the time with my baby brother was stuck in New Jersey, where we now live and where she taught. I can remember the fear watching the Towers collapse on the news over and over again.
Every year on 9/11 these feelings of fear are brought back to to millions of Americans all around the United States. Every year we commemorate the memory of those lost on that clear September morning. And every year we remember.
Today, though the man responsible for these deaths, trategities, loses, is dead, we feel fear. Today, with this evil man gone we must not celebrate but remember. Remember the courage showed, the lives lost and the people affected. We will always remember our fear.