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Sept. 11 is one memory that will never fade

I’ve been told I have a pretty good memory. My ability to recall minute and insignificant events from my childhood sometimes amazes people. In fifth grade, for example, we had to memorize a poem each month and recite them in front of the class, and I can still remember the poem we memorized for September.
But that’s not the only thing I remember from the month of September that year.
I was 10 years old in fifth grade, and that was 2001.
I remember when the planes crashed into the Twin Towers, and I remember the fear on the adults’ faces. Some people my age will tell you they were scared, that they were sad for all of the people who died, but honestly, neither myself nor many of my classmates knew what was really going on. I didn’t know what the Twin Towers were. I had never been to New York City. It all seemed foreign to me.
But I remember the feeling in the air at my elementary school. I remember the scenes of destruction on the news, the ash-covered victims running from the falling towers, the fear. I remember the aerial footage of a field in Pennsylvania with a plane crashed into it, and the chunk of the Pentagon that was smoking.
I remember staying inside for recess while my teacher tried to explain to us how this had happened.
Everyone was affected by the attacks differently. Everyone has a different memory.
But wherever people were when they heard the news, whatever they were doing, they’ll always remember it.
The nation and the world has spent 11 years remembering. I will be 22 in November, and I realized yesterday that I have spent half of my life remembering.
I’m a fourth-year here, meaning most students at Ohio State are younger than me. And almost everyone younger than me has spent more of their lives than not remembering.
And as we grow older, more and more people will begin to realize that they too have lived the majority of their lives in the wake of Sept. 11.
But that won’t diminish the meaning. That memory will never fade.
The farther away that terrible day moves from our present, the more dominant our memories become, assuring that those who lost their lives that day are never forgotten.

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