The world dubbed Sept. 11 the day we could never forget.

We were supposed to remember where we were and who we were with. We were supposed to remember everything we saw. Every devastating image.

Sept. 11 was supposed to live with us every day.

But for some of us, it’s tucked away in a part of our mind we rarely visit. We try not to think about it because it makes us hurt all over again.

We try to forget it until it bombards us on television and in newspapers. We forget it until someone asks us about it.

So in essence, our lives haven’t really changed.

Basically, some of us are ignoring what happened.

And it shouldn’t be like that.

Last year, we couldn’t ignore anything.

Together we gasped as we turned on our televisions, expecting to see the news, but instead watched as the Twin Towers tumbled.

One collapsed.

And then the other.

We hoped everyone was alive, but they weren’t, thousands would be presumed dead.

N

othing was left that day but fire, smoke and ashes. It covered New York and the people who loved her.

Our eyes couldn’t ignore it.

We remember newscasters and witnesses talking about those who had jumped from the buildings, choosing to die rather than suffer in the overwhelming heat. We heard about the people who had made it down several flights of stairs in one of the towers, but didn’t make it. We heard about the people who sacrificed their own lives, trying to help a co-worker save their own.

But the buildings collapsed and few survived.

Our ears wouldn’t, couldn’t ignore it.

And then, there were the phone calls. Who could forget those last minute calls from the passengers aboard flights 93, 11, 77 and 175. The passengers calling to tell their family they were going to try to stop what had been deemed inevitable. They wanted to stop the planes. And if they didn’t, they wanted those left behind to know they loved them. They would always love them.

Our hearts couldn’t forget it.

And then there was us. We sat here, piling in front of television sets like the one in Garrett Conference Center. We cried with strangers who we felt compelled to be near if only for the sake of human presence.

We watched as firefighters and police hunted for survivors, even some of their own.

We watched grown men cry.

We called our families to say hello, to hear voices of reassurance. We called to hear “I love you” and “Everything will be all right.”

We just needed comfort.

We asked why and demanded to know who could do such a thing. Who had the gall to do something like that?

We said we would never ignore it.

But then we did.

Sometime, during the past year, we chose to forget it. We pretend like nothing ever happened until someone reminds us.

Here’s your personal reminder. Last year, you couldn’t get off your couch or out of bed, because you were so awe-struck.

Tomorrow is your chance to remember what happened. Ceremonies will be held on and off campus. Remembrances in New York and Washington D.C. will be televised. The major networks will jam pack the day with visuals from last year and survivors speaking about their survival.

It will be sad, and it will hurt. It will be forced upon us. We will cry again. And again we will wonder why it had to happen.

The past we ignored will come back to haunt us. We need to remember.

This editorial represents the majority opinion of the Herald’s 11-member board of student editors.