My Memories from 9/11


I was 5.

I remember the pain on my parents faces.

The frantic dash for the tv downstairs and the news that they started watching which was bizarre because we never watched the news.

I remember not being aloud to go downstairs or watch the tv.

I remember my mom sobbing and not knowing why.

Hearing them pray.

I must have prayed in my own way when they explained it to me and my siblings in the most child friendly way possible.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

16 years later:

A few years ago I watched a tribute video and was shocked beyond belief. I had never to that day seen footage of the event. I watched with tears streaming down my face and a rock in my stomach. I couldn’t help but pray for the people who still must live with the scars and empty brokenness, wreckage from that day.

I am so thankful for the men and women who risked their lives and even lost them to rescue many.

They say that time heals all wounds.

If only that were true.

Pray with me today for those who are still grieving. Pray that they would find the true Healer and that their hearts would be restored with His blood and His comfort.

By God’s Grace,


10 thoughts on “My Memories from 9/11

  1. Wow, how amazing you still remember that! I was only 1 years when it happened so I obviously don’t remember it, but seeing the footage is heartbreaking. 😦 Yes, we must stand in prayer for the people affected by it, not just today, but everyday. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Thank you so much for sharing this post, Victoria. My heart goes out to thru victims and all those who still suffer to this day from that brutal, terrorist attack.

    I was nine years old when 9/11 occurred. We heard the news on the radio and I dismay completely understand what was happening, but over the next few months I saw footage of the tragedy over and over again. Everywhere we went there were more stories of tragedy and heroism. It changed our nation.

    But it didn’t really hit home until eight or so years later when I was standing in the American History Museum in D.C. and saw an exhibit of 9/11, which included a piece of the twin towers. Over eight feet tall, and crumpled like an accordion. It was then that I began to cry.

    May we never, EVER forget and may we vigilantly protect our people and guard our borders from those that seem to destroy us.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. This is beautiful — thank you for sharing. I remember when this happened as well. I was five, and unlike your family, we used to keep the news on. I was eating breakfast and heard someone screaming on the television……and I saw it all. All the rubble, all the people, all the fires, all the first hand reactions. Being five, I started crying and ran for Mom — I didn’t understand, I only knew something terrible had happened. I had nightmares for years, and was terrified of fires for a long while. Even now, so many years later, I still remember all I saw that morning. I haven’t really watched any footage from that morning, but I have read numerous accounts of people who were involved.

    My heart goes out to those who still deal with these things everyday. For all the children who grew up without their parents, for all the husbands and wives who grieved for their spouse. For the parents who lost their children.

    Yes, I will join you in praying for the true Healer to comfort those who are grieving!

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Beautiful post, Victoria.

    It’s amazing the different experiences we all had on that day. Like Allison, I was 9. I was still in regular school at that time, and distinctly remember being in 4th grade math class, doing seatwork when the first plane hit. The kindergarten teacher came in and whispered something to our teacher and then brought in a radio which was tuned to a news station. If I recall, we may have heard the live report when the second plane hit, though it was all so confusing that I didn’t realize it at the time. The school day kept going until after the plane hit the Pentagon. Us being in central Virginia, I guess that was too close for comfort and right after lunch, the school made the decision to send everyone home. I remember packing up and listening to the other kids talk, trying to get straight what was happening. Bunch of eavesdroppers that we were, we pieced together from the teacher’s whispers that it was a terrorist attack before that was fully explained and we were taken to the school chapel to wait for our parents. Kids cried and some younger ones even screamed at every plane we heard fly over. I was oddly calm through much of it, which seems to be my consistent reaction to crisis even now, and only cried when my parents kept not coming to pick me up and I got worried about them. (They’d called earlier in the day when the attacks first started to see if school was being let out and were told no, but when the decision to let school out was made, none of the messages the school said they sent got through to them, so they came to pick me up at the regular time.) Looking back on it, I’m still surprised at how well I seemed to grasp what had happened and what a strong sense of national identity I already had, and my parents have said it surprised them too. My dad said at one point he told me, “Don’t worry, the terrorists aren’t going to come here.” (Meaning Virginia.) And was surprised when I said, “But daddy, they’re already here.” (Meaning our country.) I’ve never been able to think about that day, or watch documentaries about it without tearing up. It can only be worse for those who lost someone that day. May we always remember the fallen and pray for those they left behind.

    Liked by 1 person

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