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It was a morning of the usual routine, feed my 15 month old son and my 5 year old daughter, pack up the two of them, and take my daughter to her new school for another day of kindergarten. I remember needing milk. Taking my pajama clad child with me, in my houseslippers, I quickly popped into the service station. Clueless, I watched customers and the clerk, intently watching some news coverage on television as I'm just trying to pay for my milk and be on my way. This was a little after 8 am. I'm thinking '$4 for milk? No 'thank you' as you put my money into your register? You're welcome, Buddy. Thanks for your courtesy today.'
Scurrying out before anyone could see me in public dressed this way, I fastened my son back into his carseat and we were again on our way. As I drove home, I heard people on the radio saying something about a plane crashing into a building in New York, which sounded to me like a huge air traffic control blunder. Those poor people. Little did I know, it was 2 planes at this point.
My son & I arrived at home, television still off. He seems like he's still sleepy so I put him back into his crib.
The phone rang and I had an extremely long conversation with a woman taking care of the business of our flag football cheerleading squad...fairly mundane. When we get off the phone, again my home is silent, baby's still sleeping.
Within 2 minutes of hanging up the phone, the phone is ringing again. 'Hello?' No greeting from her, just "Is your television on?!" It's this woman again. I'm thinking 'What? We talked for over an hour!' I say no. She frantically says "Turn it on! We're under attack!" Disbelief...is this lady on medication? This can't be right. I wonder if our practice will be rained out.
It doesn't take long for my brain to absorb the images....yeah, yeah, that's the air traffic control blunder. Wow! It caused the South Tower to fall?! Those poor people. It takes a little while longer for the facts to filter in and take root. Then the saturation....there was a second plane! My ears are filled with reports laced with the word 'terrorist'. The news states that one of the planes had to bank hard to hit it! Not accidental....deliberate. There was a plane crash at the Pentagon too? Who would do this?
Seconds later, I hear, live, that a plane has crashed in Pennsylvania. Has to be related...what target is in Pennsylvania? What in the world is going on?!
Minutes later, I remember I'm on the phone. "I'm sorry; I need to go." I hang up.
The phone rings again. It's my husband, thank the Lord. He's been trying to reach me but the line has been busy. I stand in front of the television, frozen by it's glow. I take in the same news reports he is watching surrounded by coworkers, all mesmerized by the events of the day. The world truly has stopped turning. The familiar noise of aircraft over our home is absent. The world here is so silent while all of the horrible noises of the world have been vacuumed into New York, Washington, and Pennsylvania, USA.
My next impulse, go to the school and get my child, beg my husband to come home, and hold each other in a protective huddle until we all feel safe again. Safe again..when will that ever be?
My better judgement tells me my child will be a basket case if she's at home with Mama Basket Case. So I stick with the routine, wait until afternoon pickup.
All day, I'm terrified until everyone is safe at home. My father comes by to check on us. 24 hour news coverage shows gunfire taking place in the darkness somewhere on the other side of the world I never paid attention to. YES!! Revenge for the thousands who died and the millions who you ticked off!! Now, you'll be sorry. Where are the nukes?!
But later it is reported the gunfire was unrelated. We think we know who did it, but so many people on the other side of the world are rejoicing about blacking the great eye of America, it's hard to narrow down. Thanks, we'll wait.
A test of my faith would come. I sunk into a depression that lasted for months afraid that no one could protect us from this faceless shadow. One day, a precious lady told me "Honey, this isn't too big for God to handle. We have to do what we can and let Him handle the rest of it."
Amen to that!
In the years that followed this terrible tragedy, people once united in grief would be once again torn apart by the politics of war. Comedians would joke about terrorism in an effort to belittle those in charge of making the tough calls. A vile church group would begin protesting the funerals of soldiers who bravely fought to keep us safe. Radicals would argue 9/11 was staged to start a war for political profit. Who would've thought it?
The memory of those who died due to terrorism and the fight for freedom are slowly disappearing in the minds of complacent Americans who 'hate politics.'
9/11 changed many like me in that I had never before paid much attention to what went on in my world. Foreign affairs were of no concern to me. I had taken my freedom for granted. Too freely, and without question, I had given authority to strangers making laws governing my life.
Many of my acquaintances find me too political especially on social media.
But one thing I believe. God expects us to learn from our circumstances. He expects to do something when we can and always pray for Him to handle what is larger than us.
Upon that, I vowed that I would never again be that woman with her head down, busy about getting the milk with the world in shock around her. I will never again be one of the nameless cattle being drawn to the salt lick and corralled into the pen just because the herders called.
This country belongs to its people, bought and paid for by its forefathers, soldiers, and those working hard to make it good in the eyes of God.
May God continue to bless America.
