I remember the September 11th attacks in 2001. I was in my 3rd year of my bachelor’s degree, watching the news coverage in the cute townhouse next to campus I shared with roommates who had become family to me, all of us crying and wondering so quietly. We were wondering what this meant for our futures. I had no idea at that time the events I was watching and silently crying for how much they truly would impact my personal future-how much they were about to impact the very near future of a young man I had not yet met who would become the love of my life and the father of my children.
I only had feelings, feelings of sympathy, sadness, and fear. I did worry for the young men and women being sent out to answer the horrors of that day. For all those who would be affected through the ripples of war not realizing the ripple that would one day touch my life would feel more like the relentless crashing of rough waves. I thought more about how it would affect others, thinking I surely would never know the personal effects of war. After all, I was not enlisted in the armed forces nor living in the areas where actual hostile conflict would take place.
I did think of my father, who died in the line of duty at the age of 21 years old with the Army. I thought of how it affected my mother who had me as a toddler at her feet and my younger sibling as a baby in her arms when the likewise young officers came to inform her of the news. And, I thought of how these kinds of things had affected her, and in consequence me and my sibling. I did feel connected to my father, though I did not have much earthly time with him. His college benefits through the armed forces fell to me and my sibling, perhaps that is why he was so readily on my mind during the 2001 attacks. Every month I got a check from the VA for my college attendance, and it always had his name on it. I loved to see it. It felt like he was taking care of me. I wondered how much I would have been taking care of him instead if he had come home. How nice that would have been, even if it wasn’t.
Would he dislike going to the Fourth of July fireworks show, something I absolutely love and cherish? Would he have made it difficult for me to spend time with my friends? Would he have been as kind and patient as everyone remembers him? How much would have the experiences that robbed his life changed him as a father, a husband had they let him survive instead? I had no idea how much first-hand experience my future would lend me insight into these questions.
I had to shake the fears, shake the wondering, and focus on my studies. I misspeak. I had the privilege, a privilege given to me not only by my father, by my future husband, by my grandfathers, by my uncles, by my aunt, by my cousins but all those who serve in the name of our protection as a country to shake the fears, shake the wondering and focus on my studies.
Still, the thoughts lingered as I saw, even at that time, these events affecting those around me. Not only did my father’s college VA benefits bless my college experience with monthly checks for attendance but the VA also gave me work study in my college VA office. I worked alongside veterans, only a few years older than me, just out of service taking their turn at college. Our director prided herself that her office had a diverse sampling of veterans, one from each branch of service and then me, a dependent. Before the attacks of September 11th, this group of veterans were joyful on a daily basis, sharing stories of their military experience, comparing notes of differences and similarities between the branches like competitive but unified siblings. I enjoyed listening to their stories, thinking is this how my dad would have been? Is this how he would have talked about things? Getting a slight glimpse into someone my dad might have been. I found my time listening to their stories very valuable.
Then things got serious for them after the September 11th attacks, they did not have the privilege of shaking their fears to focus on life. They were certainly distracted from their studies, thinking about friends who were still active duty, keeping an eye on mail to see if they would be recalled to duty. Weighing if they would recall themselves for all the reasons you can imagine and more. Their discussions were still of value to me, and I could see even sitting next to them, I would never know the weight of their concerns. I thank them, I thank my family members who have served and all those past, present and future for whatever the reasons to take on extra worry so that the rest of us can focus and enjoy life.
Of all the veterans in our little office, the United States Marine was the first to feel the effects of the September 11th attacks. He was recalled and sent to a duty station within days. Of all the veterans, he was the quietest of the group. I had heard a lot about the Army, the Navy, the Air Force, and Coast Guard, but very little directly from the Marine himself. I heard more about the Marines from the other veterans poking fun in their sibling rivalry of more joyful days prior. I did notice the great respect all the other veterans had when wishing him well on his last day as a student, at least for a time, on his way to his duty station. I could tell there was something the other veterans knew, that I didn’t know about the Marines, something their conversations did not have the opportunity to share. I was content to think that it was okay that I did not understand and was content in appreciating the friendship and knowledge these veterans had shared with me.
While I did not glean much about the Marines in my time at my college VA office, I had no idea how much my future would educate me about the United States Marine Corps. At this same time, a young man was watching the September 11th attacks and its aftereffects with different eyes. He was speaking to recruiters of the United States Marines, and now more than ever he decided he would enlist.
-Anonymous, USMC Spouse & Veteran Caregiver
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