It seems that most of us feel the need to recount what we were doing "that day". I remember growing up listening to my parents describe what they were doing when President Kennedy was shot & my grandparents retell what they were doing when Pearl Harbor was bombed. Most of us recognize the need to vividly remember the pain & devastation of "that day".
I have the most horrid memory (except for silly little trivial things that serve no purpose), but I do recall some parts of that day. I was teaching 5th grade at the time and remember my aunt calling me on my classroom phone, which I rarely ever received calls on. Not being able to leave my kids unattended, it was awhile before I could piece the whole thing together. I remember a sense of denial then shock and then fear. I am sure we all wondered at some point who was going to be next. It was awhile before I was able to send my kids off to P.E. and stand in the teacher's lounge and watch in horror at the videos. It was so difficult to teach anything the rest of the day. Many of the children left early as their parents rushed to the school to take them home. I don't really remember what I did for the rest of the day, but I think I will forever remember the feeling of terror and devastation.
We are fighters & survivors, though and we rallied around the flag and showed the terrorists that Americans don't break so easily. However bruised and battered, we always seem to band together and derive strength from such tragedies. I suppose that is what remembering does for us, gives us hope & strength that others before us have fought the good fight and survived.
Thanks and God bless you to all who gave their lives and loved ones. Your pain and sacrifice will never be forgotten.