‘Never Forget’: How Americans remember Sept. 11

After the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks, the oft-repeated refrain became “Never Forget.” Twenty-five years later, it’s clear that many who were around on that day have not forgotten how that day changed us, as a country and as individuals. NBC News asked followers on social media to share their memories of that day — the things they will never forget about one of the most pivotal days in American history.

Answers have been lightly edited for length and clarity. All times are approximate and listed as Eastern.

A harrowing morning

8:50 a.m., New Jersey: My husband and I had been in the building the evening prior and now this was happening! I watched the towers tumble like dominos on TV, something I didn’t know buildings could do. Since we lived in Northeastern, N.J., we could smell the smoke and see it. Worst of all, we could smell death.

9 a.m., Brooklyn, N.Y.: I ran into a friend at the corner coffee shop. She had just dropped off her child and was waiting for her husband to celebrate their anniversary. He was an FDNY firefighter and was just getting off of his multi-day shift when the call came in. Instead of enjoying his anniversary, Dave Fontana stayed with his brothers. He was a beautiful soul, a wonderful husband and father. I only got to know him briefly at the Music Together program we brought our children to.

9 a.m., Ashtabula, Ohio: Everyone I was around, we couldn’t stop hugging each other and trying to help those of us who were taking that day harder than others.

9 a.m., Yulee, Fla.: I was an Outward Bound instructor, getting ready to go on a 30 day canoeing expedition with “troubled” teens. We were getting life jackets and paddles ready for the students to arrive when a staff member came down to the gear locker and told us that someone had just flown a plane into the WTC. Someone actually said, “like a passenger plane?” and we all kind of laughed it off because how the hell could that happen? Well, within two minutes we were all watching the news broadcast in horror. We left on the St. Mary’s River or Suwannee the next morning and didn’t see or hear from anyone for about four days. The first time we ran into a couple of fishermen, they asked if we had heard the news. They gave us a copy of that day’s newspaper. It was kind of otherworldly to be out on a river in nature for weeks without really knowing what was happening.

9 a.m., Guilderland, N.Y.: I was 11 and had just started middle school. I remember one girl brought cupcakes in to celebrate her birthday that morning. I was in one large classroom with a retractable divider in the middle; history/English classes on one side and math/science on the other. During math, the teacher on the other side slammed open the divider and told my teacher to turn on the TV. Years after 9/11 many people claimed they watched the events of that day unfold in classrooms on TVs. It actually happened to me and my classmates; 11-year-olds watching buildings on fire, people jumping and the towers eventually falling.

9:15 a.m., Long Island, N.Y.: I remember seeing the janitors on the roof of my school looking towards the city.

9:30 a.m., Tacoma, Wash.: I was on a business trip to Tacoma, Washington, from Rhode Island, for a week of training. I was watching the Today show and I vividly remember seeing the first tower fall — I worked at 2 World Trade Center in the late 1980s. I had to call family and friends at home and in New York, which was almost impossible. I finally walked to the office and we collectively decided to continue with the training as no one could get home. Given that I had worked on the 102nd floor of 2 WTC, I will forever remember people jumping from those windows. I stood at those windows many times while working for Shearson Lehman and I am still pained by how desperate they must have felt. The sadness is the same 25 years later.

9:35 a.m., New York: After I had finished being, yes, a victim of the collapse of Tower Two, I realized there was a lot of carnage around me. I figured the best thing I could do was to get to the nearest hospital. I can suture up a knee, probably with both hands tied behind my back and blindfolded, so to speak. So I went to Beekman Hospital. I identified myself because I didn’t work there and they gave me a fourth floor conference room. I started to sew people back together again, just trying to stop the bleeding. But that day, it was so surreal. I’m standing over a patient, trying to sew them together, and I remember how difficult it was to even pass a suture through the tissue because my mind wasn’t really focused.

9:45 a.m., Potomac, Md.: I had dropped the kids off at the school in Silver Spring and was listening to the radio, and they said a plane had crashed into the north tower of the World Trade Center. Naturally, I was interested in hearing more about what was happening. I went directly home and turned on the Today Show. When the plane crashed into the Pentagon, I got back in my car and drove to pick my kids up from school. In an attempt to not cause anxiety for the students — many of whose parents worked downtown for the government or military — the administration wanted the school day to continue as normal for as long as possible. I sat in the school’s office for a few hours to allow my three children to carry on with the day. Between noon and the end of the school day, I signed my kids out of class and we drove home. During all of this happening I had been thinking that we didn’t own an American flag, so I stopped at Michael’s on Rockville Pike to see if we could buy one. When we got home we hung the flag outside of our garage.

9:50 a.m., New York: I remember evacuating the subway at 34th Street and seeing a gaping hole in the one tower that was remaining. Everyone was trying to call someone on a cell phone or phone booth, and people had the news blasting from open cars. The only thing I could think to do was to start walking home, back to 157th and Broadway. While I was walking back, I saw people’s expressions change into sheer shock, so I turned around and saw the second tower collapse. No one knew what was going to happen next, and we just kept walking. It felt like we were in some kind of apocalyptic movie.

Dealing with the aftermath

5 p.m., Armonk, N.Y.: After hours of not being able to reach my dad, getting frantic calls from family in Italy and watching my mother assume her husband was gone, we finally got word that he was able to jump in a limo and get to the Bronx. We drove to pick him up, covered in ash.

7 p.m., Manhasset, N.Y.: I remember the cars that remained in the parking lots at the Plandome and Manhasset train stations were the first hint at those who would not be coming home.

7 p.m., Ellington, Conn.: I had decided a few weeks earlier to start a book club, and we set the first meeting for Tuesday, Sept 11. The day came, and of course unfolded into the horror we all remember. I emailed everyone (about 20 people) and asked, “Do you still want to get together or should we postpone?” We were so distraught — all of us with school-age children who we were trying to help understand what happened. We went back and forth on going forward. In the end, 18 of us met that night, and we were so thankful we had each other to process our shock. The TV was on in the background, showing scenes of heartbreak and grief, bravery and sacrifice. I couldn’t imagine shutting it off. We were bonded, and many of us have remained close friends since then. That original book club will honor 25 years of book discussions this September, and most importantly, 25 years of supporting each other.

10:30 p.m., Houston: I was stationed at the main headquarters for Continental Airlines as crew coordinator. The atmosphere on the entire main floor — which housed the System Operation Control Center — was heavy with sorrow. It was overwhelming to be there, as we struggled to perform our duties while the entire system lay in a state of paralysis and unsure if we would ever move on from this tragic event.