Walking through New York on Friday morning heading to the 9/11 Memorial, I anticipated the emotions I would feel, but never realized how deeply it would affect me. As I was walking, I looked down into sidewalk grates and thought that they seemed kind of full, possibly from trash, possibly from ashes from the World Trade Center. When we reached the fence that surrounded the site where the new Freedom Tower and Memorial site are being constructed, my throat was tight and my mind just kept replaying the events of that tragic day. The other people around me didn’t understand why I was affected so much; they were only 7 or 8 years when the attacks happened and didn’t fully realize the magnitude of what this meant for our country. Walking up to a higher catwalk where we could see more of the construction site, I was overwhelmed with emotion. I couldn’t get the image out of my head of people jumping from the buildings, of the towers falling, or of the face of the girl that I knew who was on one of the planes. I think at one point my sobs drowned out the sound of the cars below, at least in my own head.

I stood at this site where 3000 people lost their lives on September 11, 2001 knowing it was the catalyst for so many people who stand in service to this country and for those who have given their lives during the horror on that day and since then to make sure it never happens again. I realized that we can be so absorbed in our lives we forget that we only have these lives because of the willingness of people to give service to and sometimes die for the freedom that we take for granted. One of the students with me came and looped her arm through mine. She said, “Sometimes it’s hard to have to remember.” We cannot become complacent and forget why we can live the way we do and what has been sacrificed for that.

We walked into the Memorial Museum which has been set up in its temporary location near the site. As I went through the room packed full of people, seeing the timeline of events, the live memorials made for the victims, and even some of the letters, photos, and fire or police department patches, I just cried. When you don’t remember or you push the memories out of your mind, it’s easy to act like they never happened. Standing there, the memories I had suppressed hit me all at once, knocking the breath out of me.

A friend with me asked if I wanted to look up the name of the girl I knew, so we did. As we scrolled through the list of names, it made my heart break to see so many names. How many people may have died at the World Trade Center who didn’t get their name on this list? How many people have died fighting to protect the lives of people they never knew? These people deserve to be honored as well. This Memorial will be a beautiful tribute to the victims, families, and those serving this country.

The rubble is no longer there and the bodies aren’t visible, but it truly affected me in a way that I never imagined it would. I was in the 10th grade that day and I was sitting in a classroom in Utah when they announced the attack on the United States and the 3 locations that had been targeted and hit. I remember seeing the towers fall and hearing the cries of my fellow classmates as the realization of what was happening struck us. Myself, along with the other students who had parents in the military and who lived on the Air Force base were called out of class and dismissed early. My sister and I picked up our brother from school and spent the next 5 hours trying to get home. My mom was stuck 45 minutes away and my dad was locked down in his building on the base. My sister took the role of both of our parents to keep us safe and calm. She was always strong for us, even though I know she was freaking out as much as I was.

It’s so ironic to me that we when picked up my brother from school that day (he was in the 6th grade), he was laid back. He didn’t understand what was really happening, and even thought it was kind of cool that each car was searched upon getting onto the base and the base was surrounded by armed military police. This year, near the 10 year anniversary of the attack of 9/11, he will be serving overseas with the Marine Corps because of something he did not understand 10 years ago, when he was just a kid.

I remember at the time my dad was one year from retirement and I was so fearful that he would be the one being deployed. I never dreamed that 10 years later, it would be my brother I would be scared for – this brave brother who is never selfish and always puts others first. In March, my brother had surgery on his back and all I could think about was the recovery and how the doctors would determine if he was clear for deployment. I love him and I was very selfish in my hopes that he would not be cleared. No one wants to get those deployment orders and I certainly don’t want my brother fighting in a war zone.

The Bible says in 1 Timothy 1:7, “For God did not give us a spirit of timidity (of cowardice, of craven and cringing and fawning fear), but [He has given us a spirit] of power and of love and of calm and well-balanced mind and discipline and self-control.” (AMP) Russ is no longer a kid; he is a man, my brother, and most of all, my friend. Now, he even gets the role of my Hero.

Our lives are free because someone else has given up theirs, either in death or in service. Praise God for those willing people and their families. John 15:13 says, “No one has greater love than to lay down his own life for his friends.”

I will not forget the events of September 11, 2001. I will not stop praying. I will not take my freedom for granted.