September 11th: We Remember

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We all remember where we were that day.

I had just arrived at my office in the Watergate building following my normal commute along Washington Boulevard past the Pentagon. I remember the sun shining against the gorgeous blue sky on that Tuesday morning and how lucky I felt to be living and working in our Nation’s Capitol.

My boyfriend (now husband) was onboard the USS Boxer on his way home from a six-month deployment to the Persian Gulf, and I would be flying out to San Diego in a few weeks to see him.

Life was good.

I turned on my computer and then went down the hall to grab my morning coffee. When I came back to my office, the little green light on my phone was illuminated, indicating I had a voicemail (before the days of smartphones and texting). It was my friend saying, “Turn on your TV, a plane just hit the World Trade Center.”

I immediately turned on the television, and by that point, the second tower had been hit. I was staring in disbelief when my colleague came into my office with an equally shocked look on his face. Neither one of us knew what to say, but we both knew it wasn’t an accident.

This was intentional.

As we sat watching the coverage in complete shock and disbelief, the news was reporting other possible threats and explosions. There were rumors of additional planes in the air headed toward the Capitol and the White House. My friends who were working on the Hill, in the White House and other federal buildings were running for their lives.

Then a news anchor interrupted the broadcast to say, “We are hearing reports of an explosion at the Pentagon…” I turned to look out my 10th-floor window that faced Virginia and the Potomac River and saw a massive black cloud of smoke hovering over the Pentagon where I had just driven past less than an hour before.

I knew then that I had to let my family and friends know that I was alright (back before the days of marking ourselves “safe” on Facebook). I called my parents. I called my grandmother. I emailed my boyfriend, who was only getting partial reports of what was happening onboard the ship. We exchanged a few quick messages before the ship’s email was shut down.

Once traffic had subsided, I finally headed home around 4 p.m. I will never forget driving across the 14th Street Bridge and being the only car on the road. It felt like the world had come to an end.

In a way, I suppose it did. At least the world as we knew it then.

One of the great tragedies of this harrowing event is that we have become numb to the changes in our everyday lives that are normal now but were so jarring and extraordinary at the time. Do we remember what it was like to meet a loved one at the gate as they disembarked from a flight? Can we recall a time when the “news ticker” wasn’t continuously scrolling across the bottom of the television screen?

However, what has not faded in our memories is how we felt when we heard the news. We remember exactly where we were, what we were doing, who was standing next to us. We will never forget the feelings of shock, fear, vulnerability, grief, anger, and disbelief.

Time marches on, but we will always remember. 

  • We will remember the 2,977 lives lost that day.
  • We will remember the 2,753 people killed at the World Trade Center site.
  • We will remember the 343 NYC firefighters and 71 law enforcement officers who gave their lives.
  • We will remember the 184 people killed at the Pentagon.
  • We will remember the 87 passengers and crew who perished on American Airlines Flight 11.
  • We will remember the 60 passengers and crew who perished on United Airlines Flight 175.
  • We will remember the 59 passengers and crew who perished on American Airlines Flight 77.
  • We will remember the 40 passengers and crew who perished on United Airlines Flight 93.
  • We will remember the first responders who saved countless lives.
  • We will remember how we united as a nation in response to the deadliest attack on American soil since Pearl Harbor.

May we always remember.

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Jen Kinsella
The Navy brought Jen and her family to Pensacola in 2018 following a 3-year tour in Belgium. Born and raised in the Midwest, Jen’s career path took her to Washington, D.C., after college, where she lived until she married her husband, Tim, in 2007. Balancing family and career against the backdrop of military life has made her appreciate the importance of friendships, connections, and finding your “mom tribe” wherever “home” may be. While living in Belgium, Jen took on her most challenging role to date, that of a stay-at-home-mom to her two sons, Timothy and Charlie. In this position, she has been forced to face her fear of cooking, has learned that you never “catch up” on laundry and that she continuously works longer hours for less pay! Fueled by coffee, Pure Barre, and dry shampoo, she feels like she’s “winging it” when it comes to motherhood most of the time, but couldn’t imagine a more rewarding journey. She continues to learn from her kids every day.

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