However -- I am an American -- a proud, patriotic American. So that means that naturally I was greatly affected by the events of 9/11. I was in shock, along with the rest of the nation. I was deeply saddened, beyond my own understanding, by the huge loss of innocent lives. I still can't wrap my mind around it, ten years later. I don't know if any American can. Hearing a story of someone in one of the Twin Towers, or the Pentagon, or Flight 93, still pulls on my heart and makes me stop what I'm doing to sit and listen. I owe the victims at least that much -- my time to hear their story, my compassion on them and their loved ones left behind. As a fellow American, I can do at least that much. I've prayed for the families often -- prayed that if they didn't already know Jesus, they would come to know Him, so that they could experience His love, His comfort, His peace...His healing. He is the only One who can do that for them.
On the morning of September 11, 2001, I was late for work. I overslept. I was going through a very dark time in my life. I had started dating this amazing guy earlier in the year. We were best friends. It naturally progressed to dating. Then...one day I realized, "Hey, I could marry this guy." So I did what every normal girl would do at this point in a relationship. I broke up with him.
What??!!!
"Why did you do that?" you ask.
Well, the answer really isn't important for this post -- for brevity's sake, I'll tell you that I was scared of rejection -- that if he really got to know me better, he'd drop me like a bad habit, as had been done by guys before.
So I decided to make things easy for him and do it myself -- to save him the trouble, you know.
But what I'd told him was that I just wasn't ready for a relationship - I needed to focus on finishing school (I'd recently been able to go back full-time at the University of Arizona). You know, the typical I'm-totally-not-being-honest-with-you answer that hurts everyone it's been given to. And it did hurt him...badly. He was heart-broken.
And I was sad, too...so sad. But I told myself that I was HAPPY --- I was FREE! Free from what? I don't know - because I didn't feel free. I felt trapped.
I think when we lie to ourselves, we trap ourselves in that lie. When we are disobeying God, we trap ourselves in our sin. We aren't allowing Him to work in our lives. At least, this is the way it is for me.
So I overslept on September 11th. By the time I got up, the first plane had hit the first Tower in New York City, which was three hours ahead of my Tucson time. But I didn't know that yet. I remember taking a quick shower; I could barely keep my eyes open and I wasn't looking forward to the day -- an early couple of hours at work, a few classes at the UA, then back to work until 5:00, then back to UA for my night class. Later I found out that during this foggy shower was when the second plane hit the second Tower.
It was on my hurried drive to work that I heard the news of the airplanes hitting the World Trade Center on my car radio. I remember my mouth actually falling open. I remember hearing Peter Jennings giving the report, and then pausing and saying that one of the Towers was falling. The person interviewing him said something like, "Wait, you said that it's falling?" "Yes...yes, it is falling..." He was in disbelief. Everyone was in disbelief. Then a few minutes later, he reported that the other Tower was falling.
I arrived at my job, running inside so I could turn on the radio at my desk to hear more. There was a large group of people gathered around one cubicle (I worked for a health network's billing office as a secretary, so most other employees there were billers), listening to the radio. Many of our employees were originally from New York. I remember one woman crying. I remember the dead quiet in the normally bustling office. We heard of the other two attacks - the Pentagon and Flight 93.
I was starting to feel panicked. There was a rumor that "they" (whoever "they" were) would be targeting places like government defense contractors next. Well, my ex-boyfriend worked at the local defense contractor -- it was a huge plant. An easy target. So without thinking, I called him at work. He didn't pick up. I suddenly felt foolish and hung up without leaving a message.
At the UA, it was unusually quiet, too. It was as if we were all waiting to hear more news, and we didn't want to miss anything. In the cafeteria, someone wheeled in a TV so we could watch the news. I don't know about everyone else, but I was afraid. After hearing of the Twin Towers, then the Pentagon, then Flight 93...what was next? And I couldn't help but think of all the people in the Towers in New York -- in the Towers, around them, firefighters, family members. I wondered who was dying, who was trying to get out, what were they going through? I heard the stories of people jumping to their deaths, saw the photos of the terror. It was as if I was trying to help them by feeling their fear, too. I prayed, and prayed, and prayed.
I stopped by our church's College Group that night after my class was over. I hadn't been attending since my ex-boyfriend was there and it was just too awkward - but I went this night. We talked about what had happened. I don't remember what was said, except that my ex wouldn't stop looking at me. He called me that night after I was home; he wanted to see if I was okay. I don't remember what I said, but I remember feeling that his voice was the most reassuring thing I'd heard that day.
I know that 9/11 has become this iconic point in American history, around which everything seems to rotate. Everything is either "pre-9/11" or "post-9/11". Even in our TV shows and movies -- you can tell the difference between those made "pre-9/11" or "post-9/11" -- by whether or not somebody is taking somebody else to the airport (waiting at the gate, which you can't do anymore if you are just dropping off/picking up someone), by the subject of the plot (especially our crime/military shows like NCIS or 24). I know this is true in my own mind, too. I try to remember what it was like before I never even imagined an airplane being plunged into a building. I can't remember, really.
My boys, being only 2-years-old and nearly-4-years-old, have no idea of the events of 9/11/01. I wonder how their thoughts will change whenever they are old enough to know about it, to understand who did this and all the stuff that goes on with politics. I still don't quite get all of it. Will it be like when I learned about Pearl Harbor as a kid? Some tragic event that happened a long, long time ago to lots of people we never knew.
Incidentally...those two adorable boys that I love to blog about...those are the offspring of myself (of course!) and that ex-boyfriend I mentioned earlier. Bryan. My amazing husband. Yes, he took me back. It was sometime in November 2001 that we had a long, honest talk. And by Christmas that year, we were engaged.
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| Bryan and me, in November 2001, as we were getting back together |
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| http://warrenharris.net/blog2/?tag=9-11 |
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