Thirty-two years ago today, I stepped off a plane at O’Hare International Airport in Chicago.
It was August 10, 1993 — sixteen days before my seventeenth birthday — and it was love at first sight.
The skyline looked like a dream. The air felt different. I had come from a war-torn country, carrying more questions than answers, and a heart full of hope I didn’t yet understand. I didn’t know it then, but this city would become my safety, my second chance, my forever home.
One of my earliest Chicago memories is from Montrose Beach on Lake Michigan. My aunt took me there, and it was my first time seeing the glorious lake. I had learned to swim in the Adriatic Sea in Croatia — the most beautiful, blue water you could imagine — but something about that day on the lake pulled at my heartstrings. Maybe it was the sense of a new beginning. Maybe it was simply time with my aunt, who, like me, had survived the war. Her husband had been held in a concentration camp and lived to tell about it — though I can only imagine the memories he carries.
In the photo from that day, my aunt is hugging me and I’m pretending to push her away, convinced she’s trying to shove me into the water. I’m wearing a bathing suit from the Sears that once stood on the corner of Lawrence and Damen — a store that’s long gone now, but somehow lives forever in that snapshot. Fun fact: that Sears store was the very first Sears to open in Chicago, way back in 1925.
Over the years, Chicago gave me countless moments — my first American grocery store visit, where kindness came from an unexpected source; my first “Welcome to Chicago,” which felt like it was meant just for me; lakefront sunsets, noisy streets, and the quiet comfort of belonging.
Life’s greatest treasures aren’t things you can keep on a shelf. They’re moments you carry in your heart.
Thirty-two years later, I’m still hopelessly in love with this city. And if you ask me, it’s the best love story I’ve ever lived. 💙✨
About the Author
I was born on August 26, 1976, in Prijedor, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Yugoslavia. I loved my home, my family, and my friends. Like most people, I often imagined what my future might look like, but the events that unfolded when I was fifteen and sixteen were far from anything I could have planned.
Living through war was the hardest experience of my life, but it taught me one unforgettable lesson: never plan too far ahead, because tomorrow is never promised.
The Yugoslav war in Bosnia destroyed countless lives, yet for reasons I may never fully understand, mine was spared. On August 10, 1993—just 16 days before my seventeenth birthday—I arrived in the United States with the help of my two aunts, Nefira and Hida. I didn’t speak a word of English. CONTINUE
“Sanela is a powerful speaker, with the ability to mesmerize her audience with every word she says as she relays her horrific personal struggles during the Bosnian War. In addition, her ability to take the true life stories of the people she knew, and incorporate them into a love story, is amazing. I highly recommend this outstanding author to present to any student or community group, and I encourage anyone needing to know that something good can come from something horrible to read her book Remember Me. You will not be disappointed!” – Judy Kingsbury, Executive Assistant to the President Rochester Community and Technical College