9/11 Memorial Mueum

The first day was a life-changing experience. While we visited Central Park, New York, and Katz's Deli, the biggest thing for me was seeing the 9/11 Museum. I can surely say that when I walked out of that building, I knew that I was never going to be the same again. This museum changed my life forever.

It induced a mix of emotions for me. First it was sad and knowing what a horrible event it was. But as I walked on, I began to feel more than that. Deeper feelings that helped me connect to the event in a way I didn't think I could, considering that no one I knew had perished or been injured in the event.

It began with the wall of blue papers. Almost 3,000 of them. Each represented a person who had died. Each was a different shade of blue, painted by people as a record of what they remembered the color of the sky was on 9/11. There was a small plaque that said that behind the cement wall that the paper was posted on, we're the remains of some of the victims. I felt my heart and my breath stop. I couldn't believe that I was mere feet away from these innocent lives that had been taken by such an in humane act.

 I started crying a bit when we walked through the memoriam, with portraits of all the people who died. I saw men, women, and even children. The only thing I was thinking was "why are there so many?" Over and over again this thought tumbled in my mind. As my friends hugged me, I said that, and they replied with consoling words. Here we were, united together with the sorrow of the moment. 

 After we walked out, we went to see a short film about the construction of the Freedom Tower. I began to cry in earnest on my friend's shoulder because of the first few seconds. It began with the rumbling of a plane engine. It grew louder and louder, building to a crescendo as you could hear screaming people in the background. In those seconds, I felt the fear they felt, the hopelessness they felt, as the realization they would not live overtook them. It scared me, the loudness of the engine, and the screaming of the people. 

 One thing I found horrible and scary was just the thought of the moment. If you can just imagine having a normal day, and getting a phone call. It's from your spouse, sibling, best friend, or other person you love and knowing they are on a plane. You hear screams, and they sound panicked. They tell you that the plane has been hijacked, and that it will be crashed. They say they will never see you again. You try to say something, but the call cuts out, and you know they are gone. 

Or you are perhaps in one of the Towers itself. You know you will die one way or the other. You have a choice between burning, being crushed, or jumping and falling tens of stories to your death. You know what you must do. You step to the edge of a window, take a last look behind you, a last look down, a deep breath, and you fling yourself off into thin air, knowing there is nothing that can save you, as others on the ground hear your screams of help, and hear as you hit the ground.

This was the horrifying reality of that September day. We never expected it, we are united by the same pain, and we have never forgotten. And no matter what, WE WILL NEVER FORGET. 
       
 -Emily R