Growing up I have always heard people talk about where they were when Kennedy was shot, or MLK, Jr, or other moments that stand out in history. I have a couple to share within my lifetime thus far, but why are they not ever good moments? Maybe that will change with the outcome of the upcoming presidential election. I'm sure I'll be sitting in front of my tv, but at least I can say that I remember the moment, the feeling, the sense that history was changing before my eyes when either the first black American president was elected or the first woman vice president was elected. While I do have my own political opinion, I'm pretty excited that either way change is before us. While the US tends to pride itself on being the first, the strongest, bravest, smartest...well, we are way behind the times in our beliefs of who would make a great leader of our country. Anyway, historical moments in my lifetime (thus far):

The Challenger: I was in 5th grade, sitting at my desk watching it unfold on tv. I think there was some sort of announcement in school. That year, my teacher made us read an article from the newspaper and write a paragraph summarizing it every week. I remember writing about the Challenger crew. I also wrote a poem about the event and it got published in some district booklet or something.

OJ Simpson trial: I was in college walking to class and I heard yells coming from some of the buildings. I think some were cheering and some were...in disbelief.

Sept 11: I was teaching 8th grade science and another teacher came to my door to tell me what happened. It didn't hit me at first how serious the situation was--did it really occur to anyone what the devastation could possibly be? I turned on the tv and we watched a small portion. After a while I was unsure of the appropriateness and decided we had seen enough and turned it off. Of course, it was all we could think about. Parents were picking up their kids. Somehow we made it through the day, but I was worried about Kyle and how I was going to get home. At that time we were living in Niagara Falls, Ontario and I was working in the US. They closed the borders and there was no way for me to get home. I have family here, so I wasn't so concerned about where I was going to go, but more so the fact that all I wanted to do was be with Kyle. It hit me hard about the seriousness of living and working in separate countries. They did eventually open the border that evening and I was able to get home. I remember clinging to Kyle and not wanting to let go. I remember being glued to the tv and not being able to tear myself away, even though there was no new news I just had to keep watching. The stories of people who were there and survived, the people whose relatives did not survive, searching for survivors, the tales of heroism that unfolded...it was overwhelming. Some of the stories that really stuck with me were of the women who were pregnant and their spouses had died. At the time I was a couple months away from getting married and thinking about a family of my own. For months after I kept thinking about those women having to deal with the death of their spouse, raising children, and giving birth all on their own. I can't imagine how devastating that would be.

However, most of all I was left with a sense of patriotism and togetherness that I hadn't ever felt before. This moment was tragic, and yet I felt like we as Americans had all been bonded together by this terrible event. We all shared this moment; we felt it, we were hurt by it. At the same time we leaned on each other, picked each other up, and grew from it.

And when all is said and done that is what I want passed on to my children: hope.