The only place I want to be on 9/11 is at my home in Ridgewood, around people who I feel were impacted in the same way I was. Being that Ridgewood is so close to New York, it was inevitable that people I knew (or knew of) died. Whether they were bravely providing aid, or whether it had been an ordinary day at work...these were people who we can now only memorialize. Even though it's been 10 years, it feels like yesterday that my fifth grade teacher sat my class down and broke us the news. School got let out early that day, and I remember walking home in fear as I heard planes overhead, afraid that they were all about to fall out of the sky.
I got home and watched the news with my mother and sisters...the images were so graphic that they stay with me to this very day. But all of this wouldn't have been so bad had my father not been on a plane that day. I remember we waited all day to receive a call from him, telling us he was okay. We knew that he hadn't been on a plane that was in danger, but it was so unsettling to know that he was on a plane at all. My father is one of the most important people in my life, he inspires me to work hard and to be a good person and role model. He constantly reminds me of the importance of family and friends, and I could not say that I would be the same person without him in my life. My heart goes out to anyone who lost someone on 9/11.
Proud to be an American, forever and always. Thinking of all my friends and family today, I love you all.
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