Five Years
I remember exactly where I was when word came that JFK had been shot in 1963 (I was in Mrs. Ferguson’s 2nd grade at Field Elementary School in Neosho, MO) . . . and I’ll never forget the morning of 9/11/01.
I was driving to the church building that Tuesday morning when I heard a news flash on NPR that a plane had hit the north tower of the World Trade Center. Was it a pilot error? Was it a mechanical malfunction? Or — God forbid — was it an attack? No one yet knew.
When I arrived at the office, we all gathered around the tiny black and white television whose rabbit ears picked up the Today Show. Like everyone else, we watched the tragedy unfold.
About an hour later, someone came from our Ladies’ Bible Class, asking if I’d come say a few words and pray. Several who were old enough to remember Pearl Harbor were in such deep sorrow for the world.
Now, five years later, we’re still in awe that young men could be convinced that God would be glorified by such destruction — that they would honor him by killing themselves as they murdered so many people.
Hatred is toxic. Hatred fueled by religious conviction is murderous.
Today we can again pray for Shalom — for the kingdom of God to continue breaking into this world of confusion and anger. And we commit ourselves to being people who follow the way of the kingdom.
What do you remember about that day?
I love New York City. I had friends that could have been there, family that could have been there and I worked to try to find out if they were or not.
My first child was due in 8 weeks. I sat at my desk and cried and rubbed my belly. Over and over I sang the words to This is My Father’s Word. “Help me ne’er forget. that though the wrong seems oft so strong, GOD IS THE RULER YET!” I don’t know if I was singing to tell her, or to calm my own spirit.
My 23-year-old brother had just been inducted into the Navy, the night before on September 10. To have him enter the military and then wake up to the horrid events of the next morning, and know that we would most likely be headed for war…terrifying.
Nowadays, I sometimes find myself thinking maybe I dreamed all that…maybe it was all just an intense nightmare. If only.
I’ve always been able to relate to Alan Jackson’s song about 911. The line where it says: “Were you in a class teaching innocent children” because that’s exactly where I was– teaching my PPCD (Preschool Program for Children with Disabilities) class in Bowie, TX when my Teacher’s Aide had gone out of the room to run an errand and came back and told me about the plane flying into the World Trade Center. When we had a break later that morning we all cried together as we watched it on our school TV after the second plane had flown into the other tower and we were so scared about the state of our country! I will never forget it as long as I live!!
I remember leaving my office at 9:30 AM and 8 minutes later 42 of my friends and co-workers were dead, among the 184 who died in that minute in the Pentagon and on the plane. It is still hard to care that there were actually five others who died there that day, since those 5 were the perpetrators – misguided but…
The next few months were full of funerals and I am now much more familiar with Arlington National Cemetery than I ever cared to be.
The Pentagon was a much smaller tragedy in numbers than the WTC, but the Pentagon is oh so much more personal for me.
Life goes on, God heals and family and church support help greatly.
I was 22 years old and working for Johnson Controls in a split ford/toyota manufacturing plant in Canada. I remember it was a beautiful morning, I drove my 30 minutes to work on the backroads just enjoying fall and how clear and gorgeous everything was. I remember those pre 9-11 moments as being incredibly peaceful.
The rest of the day as a blur of activity. As the receptionist for a 400+ plant I was one of the few people who had a radio at my desk, certainly one of the only ones who was able to listen to it during the day. As the day went on, and incident after incident piled on top of each other, I remember fielding call after call from our team leaders in the plant whose teams wanted to know what was going on. There was no processing of any information for me – just listening and repeating it over and over to whomever called and needed to know. It was horrible to have to say it over and over like that.
I remember I couldn’t get a hold of my boyfriend across the border in MI so I called my best friend from highschool at York University in toronto and woke him up to tell him the news. He didn’t believe me. He jumped on his computer and said “All this news on the same page as “can you pick stocks as good as Elton John?” – makes this a little surreal.”
I remember the look of horror in our IT manager’s face, whose sister worked in the towers. He spent all morning on his cell phone, and left around one that day. And I remember trying to work, trying to find out if we could get our trucks over the border, waiting to see if the plant would close….trying to have a normal day when everything that was completely abnormal. I remember that the person who meant the most to me during those 8+ hours at work that day was my immediate supervisor Soraya Khaleeli, a wonderful lady (also a muslim) who held on to me as we both cried and prayed during our break.
All that said, it didn’t really sink in until I was driving home that night – and realized there were no planes in the sky outside the Toronto National Airport. I’d never seen that before.
I was teaching in an adult education classroom. A student who was late came in saying something about an explosion. He was a prankster, so we ignored it. A more serious student came in after him and said someone had blown up some government building or something. I checked with other teachers in my program. Their TVs were on. I came back in my room and said, “Guys, something’s up; we’d better get the TV on.”
We turned on the TV just as the plane hit the second tower. We thought it was a replay of what had already happened. Not until later did we piece together that we turned on the TV at the actual moment the 2nd tower was hit.
We all sat there with our mouths open. A few students made some inappropriate comments (as some students are prone to do.) Class was dismissed and we just kept watching as first one and then the next tower fell. I just couldn’t wait to call home to talk to my husband. I just couldn’t believe those towers were actually gone. Dan Rather kept saying up to 20,000 people could be at work that day.
The thing I remember most about that day is wanting to be home with my family and being too stunned to even pray.
We didn’t hold classes for almost a month after that. Every day I watched the news reports of the growing number of photos taped up along the street in New York as the folks who missed tried to find the missing. In all of it, I think those are the images I will most remember, those hundreds and hundreds of posters of smiling faces, tuxedos and wedding gowns, Tower 1, worked for ________ company, please call me at telephone number ___________….any news…any sign…please…
People all lined up to give blood; stood for hours…a massive outpouring of help wishing for someone alive to help….and there was no one, nothing, just smoke and ashes and exhausted broken firefighters and a few last phone messages…
A week later, I lost a pet I’d had for 18 years…I walked around crying for two days and no one even thought it strange…because everyone else was crying, too.
I called my mother, who summed it up: “This is the worst thing I’ve seen since Pearl Harbor.”
Check out this piece that one of my elders, Joey Cope (no relation), wrote. He’s such a great writer.
Then, there is this excellent FAX OF LIFE from my buddy Rubel.
My dad had just come to Ohio to visit us from Tennessee the night before. We were sitting around drinking coffee when my husband ran in and told us to turn on the TV. My dad is from a rural town with hardly any media reception. We have it all, satelite, internet, etc. I remember that we were glued to the TV, and my dad who doesn’t even like TV just kept switching channels to every news channel there was. He just couldn’t believe it. None of us could.
Where our house is located we are about 35 miles from an airport and in the flight path for in-coming planes. I love being out in the yard and hearing the planes fly over in their approach wondering where the plane has come from. That first week after 9/11 there were no planes, and it felt so weird to not hear that familiar sound in the air.
I was sitting in 5:00 rush hour traffic with Mark Moore and Casey Smith in Kampala, Uganda. We were on our way home to Jinja when we got the call.
I remember feeling very connected with other Americans living in Uganda. I remember watching CNN with crowds of people at the local hotels. I especially remember how the Ugandans reacted though. They truly mourned with us as everywhere I went they just said, “Sorry, sorry” for several days to follow.
I was teaching a tenth grade class in Huntsville, Alabama. Some of my students’ parents were at the Pentagon , but they remained stoically quiet. One fellow teacher’s son was in the air flying at the time, and she was frantic not knowing if he were on a hijacked plane or not. Because we are the Space City, many of us were worried that we might be targeted for something too.
Later, one of my Russian students asked me why we carried on so much about the event because, he said, “These things happen all the time where I come from.” That’s sad that one can become almost complacent about such tragedies!
I had just dropped my 4 year old off at preschool. This was just after the first plane hit the WTC, but drop off went as usual. The teachers must have been getting ready for the day with no tv’s on. I had not heard yet either. My 5 year old was with me since she was in afternoon kindergarten.
We left the preschool and went to Wal Mart. As we walked in, the greeter asked me if I had heard what was going on. I had not heard so she was trying to explain it to me. It was just so surreal. So I stood there in the entry of Wal Mart watching this little tv hanging from the ceiling with some other people. Then Rachel and I just turned around and left. I called John and another friend on my way home trying to make sense of it. The rest of the day I was glued to the tv and we just skipped kindergarten.
So I guess my story for my grandkids will be that I heard about 9/11 from the Wal Mart greeter. As unfortunate as that is because I really do not like to shop at that store! Why couldn’t it have been Target?
I’ve had such a long day that after I posted the above comment I remembered that my oldest daughter must have just turned six and my 3 month old baby must have also been with me. How could I leave out such an important detail?
I remember anger and hatred not fueled by religous conviction. I remember crying.
Weeks later I remember Alan Jackson’s song “Remember When” capturing every emotion I felt that day.
5 years later I am astonished how much we have forgotten about who destroyed the WTC.
While its quite important that we remember and grieve on this day, we should remember that we aren’t the only nation that God loves… he loves his children that are murdered in sudan, those in iraq, lebanon, palestine and israel, children who are starving in africa and those still affected by the tsunami.
We should use this day to pray that the kingdom come… not that america power is re asserted. Patriotism has become idolotry for so many in christendom… let us pray that once again the earth will be what God wants it to be…
I fully agree Justin. The wolf should never be allowed to devour the sheep. No one ever said the the wolf only came to America.
The wolf is running loose in Iraq, suicide bombers.
The wolf is loose in Palestine, suicide bombers.
The wolf is loose in Sudan…..
The wolf is loose…..
People were praying then and people are praying now. Apparently either God or the wolf is not listening. Take your pick, but be able to defend to a critical audience.
I was sitting in Dr. Denny Petrillo’s class at Bear Valley (Denver) in the graduate program there. John Alan Turner was sitting beside me. Someone stuck their head in the door and said, ‘a plane just hit one of the WTC towers.’ Like everyone, we assumed a small plane had gotten off course. Not long after, he came back and told us of another plane. The nearest television was in the dorm house, so we all went there and stood around in shock. There were some veterans in that group and they were especially touched by this. We joined hands and stood in a circle praying for our country and all of the families that were affected.
I wondered how I would fly home in a few days. And I wished that I was at home during such a scary time.
One of the students said that if my flight was cancelled, he would drive me home. I thought he had a wonderful heart to offer such. It’s a long drive from Denver to Mississippi Coast.
One more thing… although you cannot compare the two disasters … having survived the aftermath of Katrina … I am more thankful for those who ran TO help than I used to be.
I remeber I had gone to a pryer group that morning. Those prayes served to sustain me that day as the tragedy unfolded.
Yes, we were indeed the “UNITED” States . . . what has happened? The current administration has brought division to this country like never before. And all the countries of the world that were “united” with us . . . also managed to alienate them. Very sad indeed.
If you really believe that you must of missed something along the line. Everyone wants to come here, but their governments have not stood with us for over 15 to 25 years. It has nothing to do with the current administration. My goodness the Arabs hold the crusades against us because we love Christ.
I was a Senior at Lubbock Christian University, and I remember by alarm clock going off at about 9:00 am, and since it is tuned to the radio on Air1-I remember the DJ saying something about praying for all of the people in New York and Washington DC…I was not sure what he was talking about and then I turned on the TV-and just sat their shocked as I watched everything unfold, including watching the towers collapse on live TV.
It was just so surreal-then I realized that my mom had not called and I knew she would have if she knew what was going on, so I called her and told her to turn on the TV-she had been in the WTC just a few years before since she worked at Dean Witter and commented on how she knew so many people in there and just could not believe what was happening. Luckily, because of a brave man named Rick Rescorla who helped his colleagues escapr (he did die in the attacks) only 6 of the around 3500 people that worked at Morgan Stanley/Dean Witter got out on that day
I remember that I skipped chapel that day and just continued to sit there in shock watching what was going on-they were showing the news feed in chapel anyway and were praying for everyone involved. I remember that we never knew where President Bush was, we worried about the oil refineries that were nearby in West Texas, and everyone was just a little more fearful…and knew we were at war. I remember that everyone seemed to have this stunned look on their face all day and the days that followed-then I remember us having blood drives, food/water bottle drives, and anything else we could do to help in the days that followed…
I remember being glued to the TV the following days and everytime I would watch the events of that day-it just felt like a really really bad dream, and maybe we would wake up from it soon-but we did not…
Then I remember going to NY 2 years later and just seeing this massive pit where the towers once stood, and seeing the cross that was left from the rubble, and all of the many signs and messages that were all over the place-it is hard to describe…
I was a senior in high school, four days away from turning 18. I hadn’t had the radio on that morning as I drove to school, and because I was in a private lesson I missed the announcement in first-period band. On my way to second period, I ran into my friend Chance, who blurted out the news. I just stared at him in shock. When I made it upstairs to my Spanish class, my teacher had the TV on, and we watched in disbelief…and kept watching for days. My eyeballs felt like they’d been stretched from opening wide enough to take it all in.
In November 2001, I flew to D.C. with a student diplomacy group for a national conference. We visited the monuments, the Republican National Committee headquarters, the State Department, and were given a private tour of the Pentagon by an Air Force brigadier general. At the end of the tour, we walked outside to view the spot where the plane had hit. They’d cleaned it up by then, but there was still a massive chunk of building gone. I stood under a dark sky sprinkled with stars (the few you could see, past the glow of city lights) and huddled close to my friends not for warmth, but for support. There was a lit Christmas tree on the roof right next to the spot that was hit. General Stein talked to us about freedom, family, and living and enjoying life. I don’t remember his exact words, but I will never forget standing there. Made me even more determined to LIVE – that is the only way the terrorists won’t win.
I remember being in 8th grade, in gym class, and our gym teacher just came out to the field, his face completely white, telling us planes had hit the WTC, had hit the Pentagon. Being kids, we laughed-we thought it was a joke, planes just hitting the towers, yeah right…there was a kid in our class whose father worked at the Pentagon, and I remember the coach asking him if he wanted to call his father…
It wasn’t until after lunch that any of us knew. We weren’t “supposed” to be told…but then we all got to our next class, and they handed us, of all things, a letter, explaining what had happened. I remember that one boy just turning completely white, the look of absolute horror in his, in all of our eyes, as we realized this had actually happened. I remember watching that boy run from the classroom, and no one stopped him-no one told him to sit down or to behave…and none of us moved. It was a half-day, and I was supposed to go out to lunch with my dad. Instead, we just sat in front of the television, staring at the screen. Finally my father turned it off, and I just remember sobbing, only 14 years old, asking my father how this could have happened-how anyone could be so heartless, how God could let so many people-so many children-die.
Now as a college student, I look back on that day, and I realize that it will be in history books-that my children will one day realize that I was one of millions to witness this tragedy, and one day they will ask me the same questions I asked my father…and see the same pictures, the same videos, watch people jumping from the towers, and in their eyes, some of the same horror I saw that day, 5 years ago, will be reflected there…
Thank God there is salvation, that there is hope, and that there is Heaven…