9-11
...were either on the plane or working in one of those buildings on this horrible day. The reactions of the rest of the people in my room varied. Most of the boys' comments were belligerent, "Dude, who the hell did this?" I'm ready to go put on my [military] uniform right now. " The girls were more concerned and upset. "How many people are in there?" "I can't believe this," and of course, "Oh my god." I was just quiet. Over the course of the week following the attack, coverage of the search for victims and perpetrators was everywhere. Like most Americans, I wasn't able to tear myself away from the TV until the real damage became apparent. Despite the media's pleas for blood donations, they weren't needed. There were barely any intact bodies found — let alone survivors. Again and again, TV viewers were shown footage of weeping mothers and pictures of the pilots whose planes were hijacked and used as bombs and firefighters sifting through the rubble that once made up the huge buildings. It became "normal" to see reporters give updates in front of a street carpeted with sheets of paper that were once neatly files away in the high-rise office building and were now strewn over Lower Manhattan. There were two images I still can't get out of my mind. One is of a man in a suit jumping out of a top floor and falling to his death. He looked like a dad who had put on his tie that morning and gone to work in an attempt to achieve the American Dream — maybe to pay off the mortgage on his house or to finance his son's braces — only to be forced to choose between burning alive or being killed upon the impact of his body with momentum hitting the concrete sidewalk. The other image is of a girl my age with her mother and younger brother holding up a picture of her father, describing him while sobbing and begging people to look for him in surrounding hospitals. She looked so horrified and heart-broken, and I wanted so badly for her dad to come home and say, "Everything is okay." It has been a few years since the attack that will live in infamy as "September Eleventh." Despite the American public's show of support with bumper stickers, US flags, highway overpass banners, and donations of time, money, and skills, very little progress seems to have been made toward capturing the people responsible for the attack. It seems useless and disrespectful to those who died to look for the "good" that came out of all this. I can, however, say that this event has opened my eyes to a few things: a major war will probably take place during my lifetime, my friends and brothers may be drafted, and we Americans have been lucky enough, up until now, that we haven't had to deal with terrorism as part of our everyday lives. It also made me realize how much destruction and grief hate can cause — and that human beings can truly be evil. More than anything, the attack has made me sad. I am sad for the victims' families, who will never eat another meal together. I am sad for the wives who will never see their h...