Age is such a strange thing to me. While I was waking up, and seeing some strange news report on tv that some government building had been blown up or something, you were still a few years away from being born.

I was all of 17, about to be 18 in 2 weeks, and I yelled down the stairs like a smartass "MOM!!!! THE PENTAGON IS ON FIRE!!!"

As if she was going to personally do something about it. Usually, me being a smartass would warrent something being yelled back at me. Something like "LOST_MY_MIND!!!! QUIT BEING A SMARTASS!!!"

Except on this day......silence. I could hear the TV on downstairs, and she ALWAYS yelled at me for leaving lights and tvs on if I wasn't in the room. So it would be highly hypocritical of her to leave the TV on, and leave the house. Very out of character for her. She wasn't yelling at my dumbass dubachery, but also the tv was on. Was she ok?

Mom??? You down there???

Silence besides the talking news report of the TV.

Hmmmm, maybe I should go check if she's home. What would make her leave the tv on, but leave the house in such a hurry?

Thats when I saw her. Wrapped like a burrito in a blanket in her favorite chair, tears running down her face. Openly weeping.

You have to keep in mind for context, the ONLY time in my 17 years I'd EVER seen her cry was 2 years earlier at her dads funeral.

Oh shit.......something is real. It was at that moment I knew to shut the fuck up, sit on the floor next to her, and watch this news report. Don't say one god damned word until you know 100% whats going on. Mom is crying. Why is mom crying???

And thats when the tv changed from the pentagon, which was on fire, to the world trade center towers, which had massive smoke pumes coming out the sides.

Oh fuck. What the hell??? The pentagon is on fire, two different world trade center towers are both seperately on fire???

Now they're talking about a plane crash in PA.

I have zero clue what the fuck is happening. I only know two things for fact. Number 1, our country is under attack. And number 2, I'm getting drafted to war in 2 weeks when I'm 18.

Turns out I was wrong about the second point. No mandatory draft for my generation ever took place. Though I stand by my reasoning for why I thought that at the time.

Local news in Cleveland was showing bus shelters that had been spray painted to say "Death to America". All of this shown to me in a 15 minute period around 9:30am.

Despite the fact that I was living in Elyria Ohio, a city I'm sure terrorists couldn't find on the map, much less pronounce, our mall was shut down for the day at 10am. Which is when it was scheduled to open on a Tuesday.

This affected me, because at noon I was set to start my shift at McDonalds in the food court of the mall. I got the call at about 9:50am. I remember feeling angry, and wanting to argue that I didn't deserve to miss my 2nd ever day of work. However the only words I spoke were "Hello? .......yes........Oh.....ok........yeah, no I understand. You keep safe, ya hear me? Ok......ok, yeah, ok bye"

I'm not sure I can put into words a way to fully articulate the emotion in the air that day. Even though I knew I was so far from any place that would recieve danger, I knew my place was watching tv, next to my mom, knife in my hand. My mom tried convincing me I was being silly, but in that house was just her, me, and 2 cats. In my mind I was protecting the family. From what? I didn't know. And that was the scary part. You DIDN'T know whats next. It's easy to look back, and say I was safe. However the news reported that san fransisco, seattle, and miami were also hit.....and then later retracted those reports as false. You didn't know WHAT was next. Or WHERE.

So I sat on the couch, knife in hand, no gun in the house, protecting the family.

The next day I worked my McDonalds shift. People were zombies. We all just shuffled from one place to the next in erie silence. Northeast Ohio is a friendly place. I often get slightly annoyed at how friendly we are. You can't walk 15 feet without some stranger saying hello. Yet the day after.......nothing.

I worked the counter at McDonalds, and I was going through the motions just like everybody else. It was the most grim feeling of nobody knowing how to socialize. Instead of my cheerful chipper self, I just said "Welcome to mcdonalds. I'll take your order". And every person saying the least amount of words possible.

"A big mac meal"

"Large?"

"Yeah."

"Coke?"

"Thats fine."

"5.87"

"Here. Keep the change"

And NOBODY was offended by others speaking like that. Everybody knew we were all just trying to exist. And thats all it was. Just existing in a public space. Nothing more.

Our manager came in slightly late, and said "Anyone that wants a flag pin, give them a flag pin. Would you like a flag pin?" And NOBODY turned down a flag pin on Sept 12th. I still have mine.

At one point our line was several people deep, which was the norm in the days before uber eats. And as this woman is 2nd in line, she snspped. Fell to her knees crying. 4 lines wide, maybe 6 people deep in each line, and she falls to her knees crying.

All 4 lines check on her, almost in a football huddle formation. Helping her up. Eventually, the 4 lines formed one massive hug. I couldn't get to join in, because I was behind the counter. Then I notice the 2 people on grill passing behind me. All other 3 register workers, and our manager were hugging, and now our 2 grill guys. I was completely wrapped up in the moment that I didn't notice the employee hug. But once I did, I joined in. Eventually someone started a U-S-A chant, and now the whole food court was chanting it. All 8 fast food resteraunts, and their customers, joined in INSTANTLY.

It goes down in my mind as one of the most surreal moments of my life.

If you weren't there, I don't know how else to describe the feeling of helplessness and unity, and total loss that everyone was feeling at the time. Right now may be the most divided this country has been since the civil war, but Sept 12th in my mind is the most unified we've EVER been.

And then you were born 2 years later. Long after that feeling had passed. And I share this story with you, with the knowledge that every Boomer knows where they were when JFK was killed. Every millennial knows where they were on 9/11. And I HOPE there is never a "Every Gen Z knows where they were when _____ happened".

That's why age is so strange to me. The idea of knowing first hand how events played out, and you reading about it in text books. The same way I read about JFK in text books. Then the scope of it changes when I think of my grandmother. My hero in life. Born in 1920, died in 2023. She was 103 years old. She was there to grow up in the great depression. She saw firsthznd the destruction of WWII. My grandfather left to go fight hitler.....and he came back. She saw the moon landing, and the civil rights movement of the 60s, and the JFK assasination, and watergate, and vietnam, and the cold war, and the iran hostage situation, and the iraq war, and 9/11, and the second iraq/middle east war, and the first black president, and covid, and finally at 103 she died.

And through all that, her message was only love. She loved you if even if she never met you. She didn't care your race, religion, gender, background. None of that mattered. All she cared about when you were in her kitchen was that you sit with her, and tell her how you're doing. She wanted you to do well. She just cared that you weren't racist. You weren't homophobic. You weren't hateful of any people. All people were welcome, except for those filled with hate in their heart. She had no tolerance for hate. She literally raised a whole city and family better than that.

And I may have lost track of my original point, but I stand by my retelling of my story, and telling of the good Gram did for the world. One more person blessed, and hopefully inspired by tales of Gram, I say. So I'll leave you with that, and zero regrets.