I remember waking up 7 years ago today.  I slept in because it was still another week until I was to start my sophomore year at UCLA.  I remember flipping on the radio next to my bed.  I always had it set to Power 106 so I was used to hearing either a DJ's voice or some loud rap music.  I remember hearing a somber voice on the radio that morning.  It was a tone of voice that I had never heard emanate from my little clock radio.  The tone was serious, like something you'd hear at a memorial.  I tried making sure that the radio was on the right station.  It was.  Why would Power 106 sound like the news?  I walked into the den of my house, a bit confused, and saw my Mom standing there.  "Mom, what's going on?  Did something happen?"  My Mom looked back at me with a blank stare.  "Eric, watch the television."  Just like that, it was like a movie come to life.  The World Trade Center was on fire.  "What happened?"  My Mom kept her eyes on the TV.  "Just watch.  Eric, just watch."

I remember sitting there glued to the television.  I remember the faces on the screen.  They were faces covered in utter shock.  The reporters did not know how to react.  People were jumping from the towers.  This couldn't be happening.  I've been to New York.  I've seen the Towers.  What's going on?  Then my shock at the situation turned into utter horror.  The South Tower was collapsing right before my very eyes.  Then the North Tower later on.  The people on the street were in states of panic.  These people were fleeing for their lives.  They were crying, screaming and everyone was asking the same question.  "Why?"  How do you watch thousands of people die on television?  You want to cry for them but all you can think is "Oh my God.  Oh my God."

I remember listening to the radio later on in the day and watching the news.  I remember hearing French radio stations flooded with callers saying that the U.S. had this coming.  I remember seeing photographs of students who looked to be of Middle Eastern descent at Santa Monica College celebrating and shaking hands after getting word of the attack.  I remember feeling hate.  I remember being angry.  What is wrong with people?  How do you say that thousands of innocent people had this coming?  How do you celebrate their demise?  What were these people doing in our country if they hated us so much?  Being a cynic is one of my largest character flaws and never was I more down on society than in those moments.

I remember coming back to the television and watching the events unfold.  I remember seeing recaps of the day's tragic events.  I remember letting go of my hate and turning back into a mourning citizen and I wasn't alone.  I remember watching the Towers fall again and again.  I remember watching the coverage for hours on end.  I was sort of numbed by it all.  And then I started to pay attention.  As the hours and days wore on, I started reading and hearing about the heroes of 9/11 instead of the villains.  They showed pictures and footage of firemen, policemen, photographers, and everyday citizens running into mortal danger, some into sure death, in order to save strangers.  Again, could this really be happening?  These are the things you see in movies but you saw it right before your eyes.  People like you and I were risking all that mattered to them for people whom they had never met before.

I remember hearing what happened on United 93.  Ordinary citizens heard what had happened to the World Trade Center and realized that their plane was destined to be a weapon of mass destruction.  Seeing fellow passengers already killed and wounded by the terrorists, the remaining passengers were still undeterred.  They attacked their assailants and made sure that nobody else but them would perish.  It meant their ultimate demise, but it potentially saved thousands.  After hearing all of the stories of heroism, I couldn't help but let the cynic in me start to disappear.  I was proud to be an American, proud to be part of a people who would help one another at any cost.  People of all races, all different nations of origin.  None of it mattered anymore.  They were all in it together.  It was one human being after another doing what he could to help those in need.  The United States of America was attacked but we would not go down without a fight.  We would not turn against each other and fend for ourselves.  We would be more united than ever before.

I remember going to a UCLA football game the following Saturday.  I went by myself and sat in the student section.  It was September 22nd and it was a home game against Ohio State.  As you well know, the Buckeyes travel well.  If you've ever sat in the Rose Bowl, you'd know that the visitors' section is adjacent to the student section.  It was a day game and as usual, it was a scorcher.  People were a bit on edge with it being the first college football game for both sides since 9/11.  It was a few minutes before gametime and the PA announcer asked for a moment of silence for those who perished on 9/11.  There were none of the usual few who hoot and holler during these moments.  The only sound you could hear was that of a few muffled cries.  The moment ended and it was time for the national anthem.  I've been going to UCLA basketball games with my Grandpa since I can remember.  My Grandpa always sings the national anthem so after I learned the words I sang with him too.  I've been singing the anthem aloud at every game I've been to since.  Usually I can hear one or two other people around me singing but not on 9/22/08.  Everybody was singing, if only in a low voice.  Some could only mouth the words while fighting back tears.  I get the chills just writing about it.  ". . . gave proof through the night that our flag was still there . . ."  The words hit home for everyone.  Pretty soon people were crying and the tears were contagious; ". . . o'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave!"  And on those last few words, the fighter jets flew over the stadium.  Everybody was crying.  Everybody had the chills.  I will never forget that moment and I couldn't tell you if my life depended on it who won that game.  It didn't matter.  The student section may have been next to the Buckeyes' supporters but there were no enemies in the Rose Bowl that day.

I remember the MLB playoffs that year.  The Yankees were in it as usual.  I remember diehard Boston Red Sox fans that I knew rooting for the Yankees, for New York.  These people hate New York.  They hate the Yankees.  But there was no hate in anybody's heart in the months that followed 9/11.  Everybody was still mourning for the city of New York.  I remember the 7th inning stretch.  I remember "God Bless America."  More tears.  More chills.  I remember.

I remember the American flag waving from people's cars, front yards.  This wasn't a bandwagon group of flags.  This was a people coming together in a time of need.  I remember people being nice to each other.  I remember courtesy being common.  I remember walking around campus nodding at strangers as they passed by.  Everybody was thinking the same thing.  I'm here.  You're here.  We're all in this together.  There were no more protests for a while.  There were no Democrats.  There were no Republicans.  We were just people.

I know some of you may think of 9/11 only when politicians reference it as a reason for foreign policy discussion, but please, if only for one day, remember the people who perished that day.  Remember that there are people in this world who wish us dead.  Remember that there are people in this world who you may not pay attention to but that they might be the ones who risk their lives to save yours.  Remember that there are people around this world who do not have the liberties that we have but that there are people risking their lives to grant them those liberties.  Remember what this country stands for and that it is we who uphold its values.  I remember.