I'll never forget...

Back in February, 2006, I reviewed a college application from a young woman attending high school in a suburb of Philadelphia that I will never forget. Moreover, this young woman's application will never allow me to forget the events of September 11, 2001.

I was a junior at William & Mary in the fall of 2001, and I still clearly remember where I was and what I was doing on that September 11th. I woke up and hit the snooze button, as usual. I repeated that action several times, as usual. And eventually I slowly rose from my slumber, showered, dressed, and proceeded to my morning class, as usual. After Modern Fiction with Professor Melfi, I returned to my dorm where I encountered my roommate, hailing for Queens, in a panicked state. He quickly blurted something to me about the terrorist attacks - I cannot recall his exact words - pointed towards our TV, and continued frantically trying to reach his family and friends in NYC via his cell phone. I watched the television coverage very much in shock for the next couple hours, and then proceeding to my rock climbing class that afternoon, as usual. Professor Whitley excused anyone feeling unable to participate in class that day kindly, and then engaged those of us who remained as best he could for the next two hours or so. I recall eating off-campus that evening, with my roommate and our friends Chuck and Zak. In an ironic display of patriotism, we went to Red, Hot & Blue.

At the time, I had difficulty identifying and characterizing my thoughts and feelings about what had occurred. I recall feeling anger, and likely fear. I do distinctly remember how disappointed I was in my college's administration. I felt that its response, though well-intended, was horribly ignorant and small-minded. I felt alone in feeling this way, and thus felt alienated from my peers, and my friends.

Five years and five months later, I hardly expected nor was quite prepared to relive September 11, 2001, but thanks to one exceptional young woman, I wasn't offered a choice. As I sat on the sofa reviewing applications with a college basketball game likely on TV in the background, as usual, I encountered the amazing story of a young woman who lost her father on that day in the cruelest of ways - he was the captain of the first plane to crash into the first tower. She wrote an impressively eloquent essay, an essay of which I still possess a copy, about refusing to be labeled and defined as a six letter word - victim - and everything in her application backed it up. Not only was she an impressive high school student in the classroom, but in many ways she dedicated her adolescent years to helping others who lost loved ones on September 11th find similar strength, live lives of joy instead of sorrow, and overcome their sadness to achieve the happiness those they lost would want. At such a young and impressionable age it was clear that she already learned how to remember and be thankful for the blessings in her life and not be ruled by its hardships.

I'm not at all ashamed to admit that I cried while reviewing her application. Even to this day I choke up if I attempt to read her essay aloud. Five years and five months after the fact, this young woman, just a senior in high school at the time and a seventh grader (I believe) when she lost her father, allowed me to fully absorb and experience my own emotional reaction to September 11th for the first time.

Now, seven years later, as the clock approaches midnight and I spend a few moments reflecting on my day, I realize that I'll never forget September 11, 2001. But I realize that what I'll remember is the strength, courage and fortitude of those who have persevered proudly and overcome deep and devastating sorrow. What I'll remember is the moving manner in which one young woman displayed what it means to be an American in the purest form in the aftermath of the most horrifying events in our nation's history.

To this day, that young woman is the most impressive, remarkable human being I've encountered. She was admitted to though did not attend William & Mary, so regrettably I've not had the chance to meet her. It remains a hope of mine that I do someday, simply to say...

thank you.