Responsibility to History

Last Night whilst I was in bed, I turned on the TV and put on some YouTube videos. I love factual content or something that makes you think, so, for some reason, I was drawn towards a few short fact files on the 11th September attacks.

I watched  few and it was only later that I realised that the anniversary was the next day.

It made me think. I years to come, when my daughters are at high school, they are going to look in their text books during modern history lessons and read about that day. That means that potentially, I am going to be asked about it.

I have blogged about my memories of the day on here already, so there isn’t much to say about it.

In recap, I was 18 years old and at the time the twin towers were hit, I was in bed at my mother’s house, with my fiancé.

It was early afternoon in the UK, and our laziness can be credited to the fact we were up late watching films. Pretty much normal teenage stuff really.

We only knew something had happened when we got in my car to drive the short distance to his Dad’s house on Gartons Lane, and the radio DJ (Chris Moyles) was telling us that the news would be coming in every 15 minutes, which was unheard of. We sat in the car, bewildered as to what the national or world crisis was that meant we were getting such frequent updates. Then, there it was. Planes were being flown into important buildings in America. People were dead.

To be honest, I hadn’t heard of the World Trade Centres. I would recognise the buildings if I saw them, but the name meant nothing.

My first thoughts, as I started the car and drove round to my fiance’s Dad’s house was for my family in America, I could only hope none of them were there.

We arrived at my man’s Dad’s house and the three of us just stood there, staring at the TV in amazement and horror. We saw the first tower collapse live on the news, then the second.

As a mum, I think I might miss out the bit about being in bed with a boy when I recount the tale to my daughters. Perhaps what is more important, is to put across the ‘where were you when…’ facts, so they can feel some sort of connection to the past. Also, to convey the ream of feelings I had at the time and now, in reflection. The same goes for the more closer to home attacks of 7/7 and the Manchester Arena bombing. So many – countless even – lives lost for no understandable reason whatsoever.

It will serve as a life lesson I think, to know that life is precious and the senseless taking of it is unfathomable and so incredibly wrong. That we as a human species must find a way forwards without hate and violence.

We have a huge responsibility to raise our children to have hearts filled with love for their fellow man and a repellence to hatred, violence and destruction.

My heart goes out to all the victims of violence and hate and their loved ones today and every day.

sssUntitsssled

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