Twenty-five years have passed, yet September 11, 2001, remains as vivid in my memory as if it happened yesterday.
That morning, I was in Albany, New York, attending a training conference with my fellow Hub Inmate Records Coordinators from the New York State Department of Correctional Services. Without warning, news began to break that planes had struck the Twin Towers in New York City.
At first, none of us fully understood what was happening. Information arrived in fragments. Then, as the terrible reality unfolded before us, shock and confusion filled the room. The training was immediately cancelled, and everyone was told to return home.
Among those attending, I was the only person who had to travel back to New York City.
Leaders at the Central Office kindly advised me to remain in Albany until the situation became more stable. Their concern was understandable: the city was under attack, transportation was severely disrupted, and no one knew what might happen next. But I could not stay. My thoughts were with my family, and I felt an overwhelming need to get home to them.
With public transportation largely unavailable, the journey back was extremely difficult. My coworkers were deeply worried about me. They kept me in their thoughts and prayed that I would return home safely. Their concern and kindness have remained with me all these years.
Today, my former coworker Susie Jean reminded me of that painful day and of how worried she had been when I left Albany for New York City. Her words brought back the fear, uncertainty and emotions of that unforgettable journey.
What went through my mind that day has also remained with me. As an immigrant, I felt a painful and immediate sense of guilt by association—not because I had done anything wrong, but because this terrible crime had been committed by people who, like me, had been permitted to enter this country. I knew that their actions did not represent immigrants as a whole, yet I could not escape the feeling that a sacred trust had been violated.
America had welcomed people like me and given us an opportunity to work hard, build a future and pursue the American Dream. The September 11 attacks felt to me not only like an assault on innocent lives and on a nation, but also like a profound betrayal of that generosity and trust.
Twenty-five years later, I continue to believe in the promise of America. My family and I have been beneficiaries of the opportunities this country offers. America enabled us to dream, to work, to achieve and to become part of its larger story. Nothing that happened on that terrible day has diminished my gratitude or my faith in those ideals.
On this solemn anniversary, I remember the nearly 3,000 lives that were taken, the families whose lives were changed forever, the first responders who ran toward danger and the countless acts of courage, compassion and unity that followed.
I also renew my commitment—and that of my family—to honor this country through gratitude, responsible citizenship and service to others. We will always cherish what America has given us and remain faithful to its promise of freedom, opportunity and human dignity.
September 11 is a day we will never forget. For me, it is also a day that deepened my gratitude for America and strengthened my determination never to take its promise for granted.
— Varghese Plammoottil
