I’m not sure if this story will be accepted, but I feel it’s important to realise how this event impacted everyone.

I was only 3 years old on September 11. My mother tells me that, during the night (I think it was around 11pm in Australia), I woke up crying because of a nightmare. She sat up nursing me with the television on, and was still rocking me back to sleep when United 175 hit WTC2.

Obviously, I don’t remember the day. But, in an odd way, it played a major role in my dreams. I didn’t dream of the event, just the hate and the fear in an abstract way, which I didn’t understand until, on September 11, 2008, I watched a tribute documentary. Everything came back. It seemed like it had been in the back of my mind until everything came out. I’d seen it before – even though I hadn’t. 9/11 played a major role in my childhood mentality, and I didn’t even know it.

That day destroyed innocence across the globe, and exposed everyone to the horror of the darkest aspects of humanity. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to have been present on that day.