Never Forget.
I was twelve. I don’t remember much. I remember we were having our living room renovated. I came back from school and my parents were sitting on the couch, watching TVN24, in the middle of half-painted walls, newspapers on the floor to protect it, dust everywhere. I remember standing by the couch, because there was so much clutter all around that I couldn’t get through to sit. So I stood there for the most part of the afternoon. I don’t remember what was being said or what I thought about all this.
I remember the image, it’s stuck in my brain, of the second airplane hitting the tower. I wasn’t there when the first one hit, but this one image of the second airplane, of the tower smoking, crumbling down, will always be there, before my eyes.
I remember this was the first time in my life that I saw pure shock in people’s eyes. I don’t remember if they cried, I just remember those eyes, wide open, not understanding, not grasping what just happened. They were Poles, just presenting the news, but I think they realized something I’ve learnt years later, when I was older: it was the end of an era. The beginning of a new one.
And I remember fear. And sadness. I remember it was the first time in my life I went to school wearing a black ribbon, the next day. I did that again when Pope John Paul II died (although the ribbon this time was white). And I did it after Smoleńsk plane crash. In some ways, Smoleńsk was our own, Polish 9/11, even though it was not an attack of enemy forces.
And the sadness is still here. And the fear is even bigger. Maybe now no one is safe. And you know what? Being aware that Osama ben Laden is dead doesn’t make it any better or easier, it doesn’t bring any relief. At least to me.
I wish I could remember more, but I don’t.
But there’s one thing I am sure of: I know I will never forget.
The victims, their families and friends, all the American people and frankly – everyone in the world who has been directly or indirectly affected – you are in my prayer tonight.
