September 11, 2001: A Day That Changed Us All
Looking back, I realize now just how young, carefree, and honestly, how naive I was to the harsh realities of the world. I’d grown up in a deeply religious home, and while we went to public school, life was still pretty sheltered. We were taught to be kind, to love others, and to have faith. But nothing prepared me for the horror that day would bring.
A Normal Morning That Turned into Chaos
Earlier that year, I’d moved out of my hometown and started my first full time morning radio job in Vermont. On the morning of September 11, I had just wrapped up reading the news on air and figured I had enough time to refill my coffee before the music started again. What happened next would stay with me for the rest of my life.
In the kitchen, Don Imus was on the radio. I heard him say something about a plane flying into the World Trade Center. I assumed it was a bad joke, or maybe some kind of freak accident. It wasn’t but at that point, I still didn’t understand the enormity of what had just happened.
The Moment Everything Became Real
I walked back to the studio, coffee in hand, turned on the TV, and slipped on my headphones. I got ready to chat with my listeners and that's when I saw it. Live, right there on the screen, a second plane slammed into the other tower.
That moment shattered whatever innocence I had left. This wasn’t an accident. This wasn’t a joke. This was a deliberate act of terror. Our country and our people were under attack. I remember my body trembling, tears falling uncontrollably as I told listeners what I had just witnessed.
Trying to Do My Job in the Middle of Chaos
The rest of that day was a blur. I ran between the newswire and fax machine, trying to get any information I could. People called in nonstop, many with loved ones in New York or Pennsylvania. They were desperate for answers. I had none and felt completely helpless.
I think many of us, even here in Montana, remember that feeling. That disbelief. That gut punch. That overwhelming need to do something, even if we didn’t know what.
Montana May Be Far, But We Felt It Close
You might be thinking, “Traci, that happened thousands of miles away.” And you’d be right. Physically, Montana is far from Ground Zero but that day made our big, wide country feel heartbreakingly small. Even here, where life can feel removed from the chaos of big cities, we were hit hard. We watched, we grieved, and we changed.
A Unified Nation
In the days that followed, something shifted. Strangers were kinder. People slowed down and offered grace more freely. Flags flew on trucks and porches. Neighbors checked in on each other. We stood together, not as left or right, not as rural or urban, but as Americans.
Have We Drifted From That Unity?
Over time, we started to return to our routines. And while that’s a part of healing, I sometimes wonder if we’ve let ourselves drift too far. Have we forgotten that day, not just the horror of it, but the unity it sparked?
I’m not saying we’ve erased it from our memories. But in the noise of conspiracy theories, political division, and hot takes, we’ve lost sight of something critical: that day wasn’t about agendas. It was about people. Innocent people. It was about all of us.
Why Montana Still Has a Role to Play
Montanans are known for resilience. For protecting what matters. For honoring history and truth. And that’s why I believe we, maybe more than many, have a responsibility to keep the memory of September 11 alive.
Talk to your kids about it. Share where you were when it happened. Pass down the stories of courage and loss. Don’t let the memory fade just because the years have. Because when we’re gone, they’ll be the ones to carry it forward.
We Can’t Forget, And We Won’t
September 11 should always be a day of remembrance. A day of quiet reflection, of flying our flags proudly, and of teaching the next generation that this wasn’t just history, it was a turning point.
Almost 3,000 people were taken from this world that day. Let’s not allow their memory to be buried under the weight of our distractions. Not here. Not anywhere. Not ever.