My phone rang at 8:58 a.m. A friend from my hometown in northern New Jersey, only 30 minutes from New York City, woke me to ask which building in Manhattan my dad worked in. With a raspy voice I asked him why. He told me that a plane had crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center 12 minutes earlier.

As the events of Sept. 11 unfolded, the photographs and videos of the horror happening in New York City became forever imprinted in my memory. Friends embraced each other, calls home were frequent and crying became a sort of cathartic ritual.

However, on the one-year anniversary of Sept. 11, I was still feeling the pangs of sorrow whereas the sentiments across campus were ones of lighthearted enthusiasm for weekend bar-hopping and college football games. A few intoxicated students even stumbled past the Quad that night, feeling the need to begin their weekend celebrations two days early.

After the attacks, our nation took steps to heighten safety measures, we educated students on the dangers and effects of terrorism and we secured our airports, our workplaces and our homes. Sept. 11, as it has come to be referred to, was the most ruthless terrorist attack America had seen. How then is it possible that we can stand here one year later with even the slightest amount of disrespect and lack of remorse?

Sept. 11, 2002 wasn't a day I had anticipated. In fact, I dreaded it. I hated the idea of having to relive those moments when our country came face to face with terrorists. I hated watching the replay of the planes crashing and the buildings crumbling. But even more so, I was disturbed by the extreme sense of normalcy across campus.

As I walked across the Quad just before my 11 a.m. class, a young man was reading the names of over 3,000 victims of the attacks. For me, it was a reminder of the gravity of the day. I walked to my class in silence thinking that one year ago at that time it seemed as if our world was falling apart. I heard a friend scream out my name. I looked up with embarrassment and politely waved; astonished that someone would disrupt such an emotive tribute.

Classes that day were habitual ¯ sit down, take notes, discuss last night's reading and wait for the words, "Okay, that's it for today." There was no mention of the Trade Towers or of the Pentagon. None of my professors even took note of the date, nor of the significance behind it. It was encouraging seeing close to 1,500 students attend the memorial service in Wait Chapel that evening.

Although, I heard too often from friends that they couldn't go because it was too upsetting or that they had reading to finish for tomorrow's political science class.

It's hard to explain why the anniversary of Sept. 11 was so emotional for me and why I was so disturbed by students and faculty acting "normal." After all, my family made it home safely that night. And I'm not really affected by it now; I'm living in Winston-Salem, so what could happen to me here?

This is the logic of many. New York City is over 500 miles from Winston-Salem. In this case, distance and location desensitizes us. Therefore, some treated Sept. 11, 2002 with just as much care as any other day.

It hurt to see two girls point to the flags above Wait Chapel and ask what they were there for. It hurt even more to see students screaming and stumbling across the Quad after the candlelight ceremony.

One year ago our country, our government and our lives changed drastically. It was hard to find a store that wasn't sold out of American flags. Today we move on and we heal.

I believe that we shouldn't dwell in the sorrows of our loss but at the same time, we can not let ignorance or disrespect triumph. We should read newspapers and listen to the news. We should educate ourselves on global issues.

I know what I'll think of each time I look at the American flag hanging by my desk and I know what my dad thinks of each time he sees the piece of paper he took as a reminder from the wreckage. It is not necessary that we remember the numbers 9-11 each day of our lives, but we must never forget those lives that were lost that September morning.