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I was 6 when my dad came back from work when the sun was still shining one fall day. I remember trying to be the center of attention but my dad ignored me and watched the TV for hours. I knew something was wrong but it wasn't until years later I realized that the only America I really, fully understood and know was the post 9/11 America. The America that proved just how much we all cared for one another and stick together when tragedy strikes America.
Today I cried when Proud to Be an American came on the radio because I will never forget. I will never forget those people on the plane, losing their lives simply because the terrorists chose their plane. I cried for their families and them never getting to say a proper goodbye. I cried because I will never forget, and no American should.