I don’t have a lot of words today. It’s been seven years, but for many Americans who lived through that day on September 11, 2001, it will always feel like a recent memory, not a forgotten one. At least I hope it will continue to be that way.
This year I made myself sit down and watch Flight 93, one of the movies that was done about the fourth plane that was crashed in a field in Pennsylvania instead of its intended target, the White House or the Capitol.
Caleb wandered in while I was watching and noticed my tears. He asked me what was wrong. I realized that this was probably the first year he was old enough to understand. He was just six months old when it actually happened. So I tried to explain to him. At first, he thought I was describing the movie. At that moment on the television, they were showing the terrorists sitting in their seats on the plane, each tying on a red headband, signifying what they were about to do.
“I like their headbands,” my innocent son said.
“No Caleb! Those are bad men!” I said, trying to explain to him in words he could understand but trying not to say what might scare him. We want our kids to feel secure, even when we know that the world is not.
“Oh. You mean this really happened?” Caleb asked, his eyes getting big.
I nodded. Caleb slowly nodded back. He gave me a hug and ran off to go watch the Disney Channel.
I wondered how his generation will remember 9/11. Will it be the way my generation remembers Pearl Harbor?
We can’t forget.
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