Forget, we will never

Being young - only in fourth grade - it was hard for me to understand the extent of the catastrophe that had occurred. Looking back now, 9/11 has forever changed my life. Because I lived just 20 minutes or so outside the city, my family knew many people who worked downtown and, more importantly, in the towers.

Having lost a dear friend of the family on 9/11 and knowing many others who lost close loved ones, that day in history has stuck with me forever. The stories, the memories, the circumstances of that day will be talked about forever. I don't know if 9/11 will ever go away for those of us who lived so close to the devastation.

I remember going into the city in the weeks following the attacks and walking downtown to see the "missing" posters set up in the blocks surrounding Ground Zero that had become somewhat of a makeshift shrine.

Walking down the street, I brushed my finger along the side of a car and wiped off the ash and dust that had been on it since the attacks. It was a life changing moment.

When I was older, I attended a high school that had a view overlooking the city. Looking out the window and seeing the empty skyline was a constant reminder of the day America was unfairly and brutally attacked.

On the evening of 9/11, my dad went up into our attic and took out a large American flag that had once flown at the University of Miami back in the 80s. The flag had been stored in the attic for years since it was too large to hang from any flag pole we had. That night, he hung the flag out of two second floor windows in the front of our house. He said he would not take it down until justice was served.

The flag flew for many years and became faded with time. It lasted well through the seasons but eventually the sun, wind, rain and snow got the best of it. We eventually took the flag down out of respect for its sad look and it made its way back up into our dark attic. Years later, on the night that President Obama announced that Osama bin Laden was killed, I went back up into the attic, knowing my dad had placed the flag there, and retrieved it from its box. When the sun rose the next morning, it shone brightly on the flag that we flew after the attacks. We wanted to make a statement that we still have not forgotten. And forget, we will never.