On this past Sunday we remembered the most devastating attack most of us have ever witnessed or experienced in our lifetime. Sunday was the ten year anniversary of the terrorist attacks in NY, PA, and DC. Around the country there was services remembering and honoring those who lost love ones and those who helped on that horrendous day in American history. It's a day that none of us well ever forget.
I remember exactly where I was on that fateful night. At the time I was actually in art school in DC (Corcoran!!!). I had actually overslept that morning which meant I missed my train and I definitely wouldn't be making it to class that morning. I remember waking up to my phone ringing like crazy. I answered it and one of my friends was concerned with my whereabouts. I told her why what's wrong, I am still at home. She was like you haven't seen the news I take it. She was worried about me. Then I started getting more calls from concerned friends. So by now I had gotten quite curious. I turned on the news and it was hard to explain what I was feeling at that precise moment. At first I couldn't believe what I was actually seeing. It was extremely surreal. Watching the TV coverage after awhile became hard to take in. I had to turn it off. After the first couple of hours it became...I don't know how exactly to explain it but it was hard to watch.
Flash forward a few months later and The Corcoran Gallery had an exhibit which featured images and video from 9/11 taken by journalists and everyday people. I remember saying to myself one day when we broke for lunch that I would walk up to the gallery and check it out. When I got up there it brought about those same feelings I had when I saw the events unfolding on TV that fateful day. I remember walking through the gallery and seeing all these images. They were quite graphic to say the least. The ambiance of the room almost gripped you and pulled you into to this kind of sad and melancholy vortex. It was a very powerful exhibit. I spent quite a while wandering and observing the imagery. I am going to end my post right here but before I go I just want to share this final remembrance with you guys. I mean I know this happened. We talked about it in just about every class when I went back to school. We talked about it at work. We talked about it back in Baltimore. All around me were constant reminders but it was the last image I checked out which really made it hit home for me...this stopped me dead in my tracks. It pulled me in. The last image really choked me up. I was extremely heartbroken. My country had been viciously attacked and it really hurt me. It hurt like hell. The last image I checked out in the exhibit was a picture of a severed leg of lady. I knew it was a ladies' leg because it still had on a ladies red pump...
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