The Road Less Traveled: 15 Years Later

The day I turned five years old, four planes crashed. Two into the World Trade Centers. One into the Pentagon. One into a field in Pennsylvania. This resulted in the immediate deaths of 2,996 people — 265 on the four planes, 2,606 in and around the World Trade Center, and 125 at the Pentagon. Over 6,000 more people were wounded.

I remember nothing of that day, not even the reactions of my parents and neighbors. My memory begins in late elementary school, when we had a moment of silence near the beginning of every school year because of something that happened before my memory.

The summer after I graduated high school, I spent a week in New York City. It was one of the best weeks of my life — I saw musicals on Broadway, visited museums, and walked through Times Square. But the most hauntingly memorable part of that was trip was the cold, rainy morning we spent at Ground Zero. While the rest of the city was loud and busy, silence echoed through that memorial site. As I listened to recorded voices telling of what they experienced on Sept. 11, 2001, it hit me for the first time that it was real. There are no words to express the depth of emotion I felt there. For one small moment I was a part of the sorrow felt throughout our nation on that day 15 years ago. I didn’t mourn with the country then but I do now.

The only country I’ve ever known is the product of what happened then. Let’s not forget the lives lost and the sacrifices made.

Elise is a senior studying technical writing. In her spare time she reads David Copperfield and listens to Hamilton. wieldan@gmail.com or @elise_wilding