09/11/2026
25 years ago, America was attacked. I remember that day very well and the days to follow.
At the time, I had been living in Rapid City, South Dakota, for five years after moving away from Bozeman, Montana, and my family. I was working from 11:00 a.m. to 7:30 p.m. at Mileage Plus, United Airlines’ frequent flyer program. There were about 200 of us working together in the call center when that devastating day occurred.
That morning, I woke up and turned on the television. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. At first, I didn’t fully understand what was happening, so I called a friend. She told me, “We’re being attacked.” Those words made everything suddenly feel very real.
My mom called to make sure I was okay. After talking with her, I quickly got myself ready for work. I felt like I needed to be there with my work family.
When I opened the office doors and stepped inside, it felt as though I had walked into a completely different world. On a normal day, the call center was filled with voices. People were talking with customers, phones were buzzing, and calls were waiting for the next available representative. But not that day.
Everything was different.
The office was somber and unusually quiet, much like the rest of the country. Our supervisors walked up and down the aisles, checking on us and offering their support. The phones were quiet, too. When calls did come through, many weren't from customers asking about their miles or travel plans. They were calling simply to offer their support and condolences.
There were a few exceptions. Some of our top-tier customers called angry and frustrated because they needed to get to their next destination for a meeting or another commitment. In those moments, it was difficult to comprehend how ordinary schedules and meetings could seem important when something so unimaginable was unfolding around us.
For those of us working for an airline that day, September 11 was not something we were simply watching unfold on television. We were sitting together in that call center, trying to process what had happened while also trying to do our jobs. We were coworkers, but that day, more than ever, we were a work family trying to support one another through something none of us could fully understand yet.
In the coming days, my dad drove his camper to visit me. While he was there, I remember one of the nights, as a nation, we were instructed to light a candle at home at a certain time. Dad and I did just that in his camper while we ate dinner, talked, and played a card game. My dad also bought me the 9/11 Twin Towers 3D laser-engraved crystal memorial you see in the video below.
In October of 2001, I moved back to Montana. Amongst my personal items was this crystal memorial. After moving out of my mom's house, I left it in my old bedroom and totally forgot about it until last year when I went back to visit my mom. We were helping her clean out her house because my stepfather had passed away the year before. That's when I found it. The original base wasn't working much, so I purchased a new one from Amazon.
It has several different settings, so I can choose to keep the light on one color or have it continuously cycle through red, blue, white, pink, yellow, green, and purple. I chose to let the colors change. To me, each changing light represents courage, sacrifice, grief, healing, unity, love, and hope. As the colors gently move from one to another, the Twin Towers remain illuminated, a reminder that although time continues to pass, the lives lost on September 11, 2001, will never be forgotten.
It currently sits on my desk as a reminder not only of that day, but also of how we felt in the days that followed. I remember the heartbreak and disbelief, but I also remember how we came together as a nation. We grieved together. We showed compassion toward one another. We loved one another a little more deeply, and even in the midst of unimaginable sadness, we held on to hope.
The changing colors remind me that life continues to move forward, but some moments stay with us forever. The colors change, the years pass, but we remember.
