I Remember

I remember.
The stunned faces of teenagers watching horrific history play out in real time on classroom tvs.

I remember.
Teachers calling relatives in New York and crying for missing loved ones and the inevitable death toll.

I remember.
The face of a president in a room full of children when the news was whispered in his ear.

I remember.
Emergency personnel running into debris storms and collapsing skyscrapers in desperate attempts to evacuate as many as they could.

I remember.
Civilians organizing rescue support while traumatized themselves.

I remember.
The voices of heros in the air who knew they would never make it home.

I remember.
24 hours of no parties, politics, or arguments as a nation reeled in unison.

I remember.
Impossible rescues from smoking, creaking rubble.

I remember.
The soot-streaking tears of rescuers over the dead they could never have saved.

I remember.
For days we watched footage narrated by red-eyed reporters with shaking voices, and we wept and prayed with them.

I remember.
When a handful of the worst humanity could produce wreaked destruction, the rest of humanity loved.

I remember.