I Will Never Forget: A Day of Remembrance, Service, and Reflection
There are only a few days in my life that have left an indelible mark on both my heart and my soul. September 11, 2001, is one of them.
Twenty-five years have passed, yet the images, the voices, the confusion, and the immeasurable loss of that day remain difficult to comprehend. Nearly 3,000 people were killed in the coordinated terrorist attacks in New York City, at the Pentagon, and near Shanksville, Pennsylvania. Behind every number was a human being—and behind every person was a family whose life was permanently changed.
We remember the firefighters who climbed the stairs of the World Trade Center while thousands of others were trying desperately to escape. We remember the law enforcement officers, emergency medical personnel, dispatchers, military personnel, rescue and recovery workers, medical professionals, and ordinary citizens who acted without knowing what the next moment would bring. Their courage was not abstract. It was demonstrated through individual decisions to move toward danger because someone else needed help.
We must also remember the families who waited for telephone calls that never came, the children who grew up without parents, the parents who buried children, and the spouses, siblings, friends, colleagues, and communities who learned to live with an absence that could never truly be filled.
For many, September 11 did not end when the smoke cleared. Survivors and responders continue to experience post-traumatic stress, grief, respiratory disease, cancer, and other serious physical and mental health conditions associated with the attacks and their aftermath. The National September 11 Memorial & Museum reports that the continuing health consequences still affect tens of thousands of people throughout the country. The federal World Trade Center Health Program continues to provide monitoring and treatment for eligible responders and survivors living with 9/11-related conditions (National September 11 Memorial & Museum, n.d.). Remembrance must therefore include not only those who died that day, but also those who continue to carry its physical and psychological consequences.
At Indian River State College’s Treasure Coast Public Safety Training Complex, our Criminal Justice Department Chair established an annual event to ensure that we never forget. The purpose has never been recognition or publicity. It is an act of remembrance, respect, and service.
Our seven-story fire tower is climbed 17 times—up and down—to represent, in a small and imperfect way, the distance firefighters climbed inside the World Trade Center towers. Completing all 17 rotations represents what they faced in ascending those towers only once. The physical exhaustion reminds us that what we are doing is symbolic. We climb in controlled conditions, with water, support, and the knowledge that we will return safely to the ground. They climbed carrying heavy equipment, surrounded by smoke and uncertainty, while others descended past them. There is no true comparison.
This year, we intentionally did not seek attention for the event. We quietly invited students from throughout the Public Safety Training Complex and members of our local first-responder community to participate at their own discretion. Those who chose to climb did so for their own reasons and in honor of people many of us never had the privilege of knowing.
However, the morning did not unfold as planned.
As we were preparing for the event, our institution received an emailed bomb threat. Buildings were evacuated as a precaution, first responders from multiple agencies arrived, and bomb squads began the deliberate work of examining the campus for possible danger. Our College president communicated the closure of the campus and provided instructions intended to protect students, employees, visitors, and responding personnel.
Thankfully, no explosive device was found, and the threat did not result in physical injury. I am deeply grateful for the swift, professional response of our College leadership and the public-safety agencies that came to our campus. Their actions reflected exactly what responsible leadership and emergency preparedness require: taking a potential threat seriously, communicating with the community, and prioritizing human life.
Nevertheless, the emotional impact was real.
I remain angry, frustrated, and saddened that a morning dedicated to honoring the victims and heroes of terrorism was interrupted by another threat of violence. Our surrounding communities have experienced multiple threats involving public institutions during the past week. Even when such threats are ultimately determined to be false, they are not harmless. They create fear, interrupt education and public service, consume emergency resources, and may reopen psychological wounds for people who have previously experienced violence, loss, or trauma.
As a criminologist, I understand the temptation to immediately speculate about motive. Was it someone seeking attention? A person attempting to create disruption? An individual acting from anger, grievance, or hatred? We may eventually learn the answer, or we may not. What I will not do is assign blame to an entire group or assume that mental illness explains threatening behavior. Mental-health conditions do not inherently make someone dangerous, and unsupported speculation can stigmatize people who are far more likely to need compassion and assistance than condemnation.
As a human being, however, I am still struggling with the reality that someone made the decision to create fear on a day set aside for remembrance.
I send my love, thoughts, and prayers to the victims of September 11, their families, the survivors, and the first responders, rescue workers, and recovery personnel who continue to live with post-traumatic stress and other lasting mental and physical injuries. I also extend those thoughts and prayers to the students, employees, families, and first responders affected by the recent threats within our own communities.
Perhaps more unexpectedly, I extend them to the person—or people—responsible for creating this fear. Accountability remains necessary, but compassion and accountability are not mutually exclusive. Whatever pain, anger, ideology, or desire for attention led to these actions, I hope those responsible are identified, stopped from causing further harm, and provided with whatever intervention justice and public safety require.
The September 11 Memorial & Museum describes remembrance as encompassing victims, families, survivors, and rescue and recovery workers whose lives continue to be affected by the attacks (National September 11 Memorial & Museum, n.d.). That understanding matters. To remember is not merely to look backward. It is to recognize continuing sacrifice, to care for those who still carry the consequences, and to choose service over fear.
Our remembrance may have been interrupted, but its meaning was not erased.
The people who ran into the World Trade Center towers did not do so for recognition. They did it because others needed them. Their courage continues to challenge us—to serve, to protect, to teach, to remember, and to refuse to allow fear to have the final word.
To the victims, the families, the survivors, and the first responders of September 11, 2001: my heart and my prayers remain with you.
I will never forget.
Dr. M
These reflections are my own and are shared as a personal remembrance of September 11, 2001, and of the continuing sacrifices made by victims, families, survivors, and first responders.
