Jessica Shyba

I never know what to say on this day. 9/11/01 was years before I’d even visit NYC, let alone live there. Years before I’d have children or even for a split second understand remotely the gravity of how deeply the events of that day changed the world.

We watched the freedom tower rise from our living room window in our apartment building. My first friend in NYC, a momma like me, had lost her husband who worked in one of the towers. It was years still before I could tell my children the story, but I made sure to highlight the heroes of that day. I make sure to talk about how the lives of victims and first responders and their families were affected that day, and every day since. That it’s imperative, the choices we make, that every chance we get to support those who help others, we pay it forward.

These small connections weave a beautiful tapestry of gratitude and empathy and we won’t forget. We support the families of those in the military, of first responders, of strong voices that lift up those who sacrifice for others. We remember, in their honor.




Beautiful pictures and words❣️


God bless America!




This will forever be such a heavy day. Today I was thinking about the utter bravery that went on that day. From people calling their loved ones to say, “hey, I’m in trouble but please live your life and know I love you” to the people on the United flight that intentionally downed their plane and willingly gave their own lives to save so many others who they didn’t even know to the people that ran INTO burning or fallen buildings to try and help others. My heart swells with gratitude and utter sadness. ♥️


One of my favorite text I’ve seen in the last couple of days 💛


Beautifully said ❤️




I was 41. My kids were 12 and 9. One in 7th grade and one in 4th grade. I was a lunch lady at Emily’s school. Us adults weren’t supposed to be talking about it, but we did anyway. They didn’t have it on tvs at the elementary school, but they did at the middle school. A week or so later, my family was watching over the nursery at church. Emily and another 9yo built tall towers of waffle blocks and a little square box. I knew the tall ones, but I had to ask about the small square. It represented the Pentagon. They couldn’t make a pentagon. With the airplane that was another toy, knocked into the towers and into the small square box. I suppose they were still processing what happened.


This day lives in my mind and heart forever!




As always beautifully written. Prayers for all those who protected us and for all those we tragically lost.❤️🙏🏻






Thank you for sharing your story of one of our darkest days🙏💔🇺🇸




So beautifully are certainly doing your part ♥️


I live in Utah. On September 11, 2001, I was driving to work and the freeway was unusually quiet. There were so few cars out, I thought it was a holiday I’d forgotten about. As I walked into work, the TV was on and my coworkers were gathered around. I soon learned that it was quite the opposite of a holiday. I didn’t cry (or couldn’t) because I think I was in shock that this had happened. Here. The US was safe, right? When I got home from work that evening, I went to my bedroom and broke down. I sobbed and sobbed - for the innocent lives that were lost in the towers and the Pentagon, for the heroes on the plane who bravely said “let’s roll” to stop another attack, and for the first responders who rushed to the scene.
I’ve visited NYC several times since, and New Yorkers are some of the nicest people I’ve ever met. It’s no wonder they didn’t hesitate to help one another that day, and the days following. ❤️🇺🇸


Damn well said. ❤️


“Always look for the helpers” Mr. Rogers


What a day....


Beautiful words Jessica. I was pregnant at the time and as my daughter gets ready to turn 18 in a couple weeks, I cannot fathom that it has been that long, seems like yesterday.

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