A father reflects on the events of the day that changed our country forever.
Where were YOU on September 11, 2001? I was home, watching the news with my twin sister, Karla, and there was a special report that inturrupted the local news we were watching. What we saw changed us forever, and I wish now I had never even seen the news.
On September 11 of this year (2004), it will be three years since our country, the United States of America, was attacked in a brutal manner by foreign terrorists with evil in their hearts and hatred on their minds; and because of it, we are now at war, battling an unseen enemy who still threatens to destroy the very life we hold dear.
On September 11, 2001, the United States of America suffered its worst national disaster when we were attacked, and because of these attacks, twin towers in New York City no longer stand tall, and the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. was left vulnerable when it once was thought to be inpenetrable. Nearly 3,000 men, women, and even children were killed in the buildings that were attacked or on planes; and it changed our way of life as we once knew it.
I don't think I will ever forget that horrible day as long as I live. (Personally, I don't think ANYONE will.) I was at home that day, with the kids, who were up and waiting for their respective school buses to come pick them up to take them to school, and a breaking news story ensued. Apparently, a plane had inadvertantly ran into one of the World Trade Center towers in New York City, New York, and the building was now on fire. There were unconfirmed reports of casualties (and even some fatalities), and as the reporters droned on, speculating about what happened, a second plane appeared, flying too low, and..it ran right into the side of the other twin tower, exploding in a huge, orange fireball. I couldn't believe at what I was seeing, and I told the kids to wait by the door, for their buses; and before they left, I kissed them and told them to have a good day at school. I didn't want them to see what was happening on t.v., but I knew that Ronee' had seen what had happened, for as she turned to leave the livingroom, her big eyes got bigger, and her small face held a look, as if to say: "Daddy, what is going on?"
After the buses came and got the kids, I settled back into my chair in the livingroom, and this was when I realized that it was much more than an unfortunate accident: we, the United States of America, had been attacked. It was a terrorist attack.
The phone rang. I reached over, and I answered it. It was my wife, Louisiana, calling from work. She was crying. She asked me if I had seen the news. I told her I did, and I began to cry, too, in spite of myself.
I was supposed to work that day at my job at Wal*Mart, so I knew I had to shower and get ready and put on my "Wal*Mart blues" (my vest and my name tag); but then my boss called, and he told me that I didn't have to work, as it probably wouldn't be busy, due to the news going on, so I settled back into my chair, and I proceeded to watch the continuing news coverage of the terrorist attack. By then, another attack had happened, this time in Washington, D.c.: the Pentagon had been hit, and like the World Trade Center towers in New York City, New York, the Pentagon was also on fire. I started crying harder, and I then grabbed my Bible, and I started to pray for those poor people who were directly most affected by the horrible tragedies that were currently taking place.
Around 11-11:30, Louisiana came home from work at her job at the hospital, and an hour later, the buses returned, with our children. As I looked upon the faces of my beautiful wife and the young, tearstained faces of my children, I knew then that they were very much aware of the situation at hand, and I hugged my wife, and hugged and kissed my children, trying to reassure them that we were going to be alright and that God was watching out over our country. The kids went to their rooms, and unlike most days, I didn't hear music blaring from stereo systems, toy cars traveling across wooden floors, laughter, or even fighting: all I heard was the sound of muffled crying or sad whisperings. My wife sat beside me, and I held her tight in my arms; but we barely talked, let alone, looked at one another, which is so unlike us. All we could do was watch the horrifying images of the burning buildings, and then, ultimately, the collapse of the towers, first one, and then, an hour later, its twin. We both wondered why some people were so evil to want to destroy our nation or hate us to want to kill innocent people.
******************************************************************************
At the table later that day, as we ate, we didn't say very much, and it was as though a dark, gloomy cloud had settled upon our usually bustling and happy household. All the kids could do was pick at their food (and Ronee' had since gone to bed; she was feeling sick, and had thrown up), or look at us, with their young faces full of fear or questions about what had happened--and why.
That's when I realized that Johnny, one of our sons, had a biological older brother who lived in New York City; and I couldn't imagine the horror or fear that must have been running through his young mind. He didn't know whether Erich was dead or alive, or if he had managed to escape the attacks, or had been caught right in the middle of it. I looked at his bright-blue, tear-filled eyes, and I went over to him, and I hugged him as tightly as I could, as I whispered over and over again in his ear, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
Good point to bring up again Karen.
I will never forget that day as long as I live.
My elder sister was diagnosed with a brain tumor also
on that day. (sigh) Memories.
Becca
i don't think anyone will ever forget where they were on that day, and bob is right--God was right where he needed to be, and he is still in control today.
Good story Karen as usual. I think a lot of people are going back to their same old negligent comfortable spoiled Am ways. love f/bm G
Reviewed by Robert Padget
3/29/2004
where was god on that day? God was with those who flooded blood banks. God was with those who donated money to the red cross. God was with those who were in the towers. God was with those in the Pentagon. God was with those who were on flight 92 before it crashed. God was everywhere that day. However God Was NOT with the terrorist who did this devistation blow to our country. Very good write Karen, look forward to the next section.*Hugs*
Love your Friend in Wyoming,
Personal experiences do really count in one's life. I was In New Orleans that day, and just arrived in the office from the airport. I was supposed to participate in an anti-stress curriculum. Then we heard what happened, and everybody was stunned and crying. Some people left Nola by Greyhound, I found a space on a pickup truck. No plane was in the sky. It took me 3-4 month to get me over these terrible pictures, and I put American flags in front of my house.
And where was God this day? God doesn't interfere with our human business. Not now and not before. Why didn't he stop the willful incineration of 120000 women, old-age men and children in Hiroshima, Nagasaki? Why did 250000 thousand Germans (again: women, children) have to die in firestorms provoked by allied bomb raids in WWII? Where was God when thousands of innocent, non-combattant Cambodian villages were bombed and exterminated by President Nixon?
Yes, 9/11 was spectacular, but compared to the scale of war crimes crimes committed in the name of the US and other nations it won't be much more then another grim detail in the human history of planned genocide.
On September 11 of this year (2004), it will be three years since our country, the United States of America, was attacked in a brutal manner by foreign terrorists with evil in their hearts and hatred on their minds; and because of it, we are now at war, battling an unseen enemy who still threatens to destroy the very life we hold dear.
