Instead, I want to say something that really means something to me. My dad is a volunteer firefighter and I couldn't be more proud. I used to worry when he was called out to a fire call when I was younger. When he would speed off at night after the scanner went off, I used to lie awake until I heard him come back. When we were little, I remember my mom used to hate it when my dad was called out on storm watch to look for tornadoes to sound the siren. She was left at home with 4 little kids by herself. I am fortunate nothing has ever happened to him or anyone else on the department, since I can remember anyway. I am so proud of my dad for being a volunteer firefighter. I hope he never has to experience a tragedy like the fire fighters of NYC did. I know he has seen some awful things in his time.
I think about one instance every time I think of my dad being a fire fighter. It happened when he responded to an ultra-light accident involving one of his best friends, Richmond, and fellow fire fighter. He ended up losing his life in the accident. I remember my dad coming home that night and not being able to come in the house. I remember his friend's daughter pulling my dad aside and asking him if her dad suffered in the wreck, or died instantly.
A few years before that, I remember an instance involving Richmond. A few friends of mine (Rich's daughter included) were in a car accident by my house. I was the first to discover the car, which had flipped end over end 3 times. I called 911, and the driver called his mom with my phone, who worked with my mom. When my mom discovered the call came from me, she panicked that I had been hurt in the accident, badly enough to not be able to call myself. Upon arriving on the scene, my dad thought I was involved in the accident. I can't imagine his relief when he realized it wasn't me. I remember Rich walking upon the scene, realizing his daughter was actually in the accident. Everyone ended up making a recovery.
Today, I am thinking of the fire fighters and their families, as well as the many victims. I am honoring my own dad for the sacrifices he has made. I am so proud of him.
I have been wondering about all the statuses about "where I was" when they found out the news. I don't know if this is really relevant to "remembering 9/11." However, I know 9/11 affected each person differently. So, I will share where I was.
I was in 7th grade science class, about to dissect something. One of the special education teachers came in to tell us there had been a "terrorist attack" in New York City. She said 2 planes crashed into the WTCs. She said we would never forget where we were when we heard. (This makes me wonder if I would have forgotten had she not said that.) At the time, I had no idea what a terrorist attack was. This was the first I had ever heard of it. I didn't know what the WTCs were, either. I remember going home and watching TV all night. I called my mom after school to ask if she had heard, obviously being very ignorant at the significance.
Sorry for the rambling. I wanted to say a few words in remembrance.
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