Sept 11, 2001

This will be hard to write out so bear with me.

My grandmother had worked for the federal government since marrying my grandfather. She worked in the Pentagon since 93’. She was a Civilan Budget analyst for the @USArmy.

This was a regular day for her.

I was in my 1st week of 8th grade at @staffordmiddle. It was just another day. What was weird was teachers started coming into the classrooms. TVs were shut off.

I remember the first time I heard something was when I was in shop class, I think second period.

A friend came up to me and said that the Pentagon has been hit. That it was a plane and other places got hit as well.

What haunts me still is I thought only about the planes, and not about my grandmother in the Pentagon.

The rest of the day was subdued. We did our school work. Several of our classmates were taken out of school. Being a native kid kept my head in my books.

It wasn’t till my sister and I got home and turned on the TV, did we actual see and know the real horror. I don’t remember if it was live or a replay, but we watched one of the towers crumble. Then the news showed pictures of the Pentagon.

It was my sister that reminded me my grandmother worked at the Pentagon.

She was going to stay and wait for my younger sister to get off the bus, and I jumped on my bike and peddled to her house.

Only my mom mom was there.

I sat with my mom mom for n the couch for an hour or two watching the news. We didn’t talk. She sat staring at the tv.

I did my best to be strong, but I remembered shaking.

Then the garage door opened and for a second I thought I heard her voice. My grandparent car pooled together. But standing at the door, was my grandfather, alone, with a expression that still gives me pause.

I think then I knew.

My mother came home later that day. I don’t remember much from that. It’s a blur. Don’t know if we ate or what. I remember my mom on the couch with my sisters, calling every number that scrolled on the bottom of news cast.

My sisters, stunned silent. We all were.

My father was in the middle of that hell. He was with @MDW_USARMY Technical rescue company. Now known as the 911th Company. He was the acting 1SG.

His Troops got the Pentagon and never stopped working. Many of them I knew. Heroic Soldiers doing their best to find survivors.

I think we talked to my dad that night. I don’t remember what we said.

I do remember my mother asking my dad to find my grandmother.

He kept his promise.

My father had a blue print and knew where her office was. I don’t know if it was the next day or the day after, but he was able to get to her office.

My father, even after 19 years has yet to go back to the Pentagon. I’ve only got little bits of information from him over the years, but I don’t pry. He doesn’t deserve to relive what he saw.

I know he found her remains and I’ll leave it at that.

At the same time, my future step-dad and uncle were with Fire depts doing their best to help with the recovery efforts.

I remember the causality officer who came to the house. She was a nice woman. I didn’t go back to school, not for almost two weeks.

Through all of this, I hadn’t really cried. My sisters did. My mother did. But I stayed strong, because that’s what my father asked of me.

I don’t remember how many days my dad was there, but he had to be told to go home and rest. My father didn’t want to leave his men.

Over the years I’ve seen pictures and even a news segment where I could spot my father. Hear his voice directing his Soliders. He’s always been my hero. Even through that, he was strong and in charge. He did his duty. He is my hero.

That building would haunt him. I don’t blame him for not going back.

I’ll leave it here.

While this has been extremely difficult to write down, I think it’s helped and maybe something I should have done a long time ago.