Just as our grandparents remembered where they were when Pearl Harbor was attacked, a man first set foot on the moon, or when JFK was shot, 9-11-01 is the day that will live in infamy in our generations hearts and minds forever.
7 years ago I was a freshman in college. I rolled out of bed and headed to my 9:30 Psychology class without turning on the tv, computer, or radio. As I was walking along the paved walkway to class an acquaintance stopped me and asked if I'd heard about "the accident" in New York. I replied no and she told me of the plane crashing into one tower. At that small moment in time it was still viewed as an accident.
I carried on to class and my teacher acknowledged what had happened but began class as usual. Shortly there after a departmental assistant came in and whispered something into her ear. We were told to take the rest of the class period off. By the time I made it back to my dorm room the second plane had crashed and this was no longer an accident.
While watching the news I began to panic. I remembered that my Dad was in Washington DC on business that day. He was flying early that morning. Then the news came a plane crashed into the Pentagon. I don't think I've ever felt so helpless before. I called and called and called his cell phone only to have the eerie no service tone on the other end or the recorded voice telling me all circuits were busy.
I pulled myself together enough to head to freshman English, my next class of the day. No one really felt like studying grammar or writing short stories. Another girl in my class had a father who was to make a delivery to the WTC that morning. Yet another who worked in the building. The small class of about 8 young women talked and prayed and sat in a state of shock.
I finally received a call later that afternoon that my Dad was ok. He had made it out of the city via the first train he could get on and was somewhere in Maryland. He made it home about midnight that night on an Amtrak train.
I remember thanking God more than I think I ever have before. I realized at that moment that even in the darkest times we have the light of the Lord to guide us. And he did. Our country banded together as one united front against the evil in the world. Seven years later we should commemorate those who have lost their lives and celebrate the troops who are fighting for our freedom.
And that is my story.
9 years ago
7 comments:
911 is indeed a sad and terrible day for us.
That gave me chills. While I was fortunate not to have any family members in or near the sites, it is still a day that I won't soon forget.
Your story gave me chiils. My story is very similar in that so many fo my friends parents worked in downtown Manhattan. My roomates father was actually due to go to a meeting at the WTC at 10am on that Tuesday. However, he missed his train into the city and did not make it. Another boy's father had his company offices in the WTC, but he had a meeting on the UES and did not happen to be in the office. However, sadly two of my classmates did loose fmaily remembers. Ironically both their cousins were on the same plane that hit the first tower. Even after seven years I still recall each hour of that day. I am thankful that God has blessed me, btu more importantly our country.
probably the saddest/ scariest day I have ever experienced
Very sad times indeed. Thank God your father was safe. So scary!
9-11 was such a scary day. I am glad your dad was okay.
Thank you for taking note of the date on your blog! I was in a classroom with 20 4th graders, some of which were giggling during the "moment of silence" that was called for by the principal over the intercom. It occurred to me, that NONE of these children actually remembered the event, since they were 2 or 3 years old in 2001. Telling the story, with truth and reverence is SO important. As one child said, "That is a sad story!" I told them it is sad, but it is also happy, since the USA is much stronger and safer than it was on 9-11-01! We owe much to the heroes from that day!
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