Monday, September 11, 2006

9-11 remembered

Nine-eleven.
I, like everyone in America, have many memories of that day.
We were new to our small town, living in an uncomfortable little rental house in a town surrounded by military bases.
My oldest son’s seventh birthday was coming up on Sept. 12. In addition, my nephew, who had been living in Washington D.C. serving a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, was scheduled to fly home on Sept. 12.
The family had plans to meet my sister’s family at the airport when they picked up Paul, then going to dinner to celebrate his return and my son’s birthday.
I don’t usually watch television in the morning. But on Sept. 11, 2001, my husband called me from work and told me to turn on the TV, because he had heard reports of an airliner hitting the World Trade Center.
As I watched the second tower was hit.
I, like everyone else in the nation was glued to the television. I pulled myself away long enough to take a shower. When I came back to the television the first tower had collapsed.
When I heard the news I literally fell to my knees and started praying for the victims, for their families, for the people in the second tower, for America.
I watched television, and cried, and held onto my two year old son all day. When my soon-to-be seven year old returned from school I tried to put on a brave face. By then I knew Paul wouldn’t be flying home as scheduled because all of the nation’s airliners had been grounded.
But we decided to take my son to dinner in SLC anyway that evening. We drove past the airport, which was curiously quiet, and settled in to eat.
I was numb.
A hotel across from the restaurant had a flagpole with an American flag on it. I remember watching the flag and feeling so sad for our country.
The Boy Scouts in our ward put American flags up in everyone’s yards. L loved the flag. He took the photos featured in this blog with a point and shoot disposable camera.
Today my DS is in sixth grade. This week he is news anchor of the classroom new team. He spent the weekend gathering information about 9-11 for his first report.
The events of 9-11 make me wonder what the future holds for my children. It makes me want to hold them close, and work hard to prepare them to be prayerful, bold and courageous.
It makes me hope we are up to the challenge faced by our fathers, with strength and courage.
World War II vet Grandpa Lang, spring 2001. This photo was also taken by L.

2 comments:

Wyo sis said...

I remember that day very well too. I held myself together and worried quietly but, strangely, calmly until Karen called and wondered if P could have been in DC that day before his flight home. Then I completly fell apart for a while. When I settled down I realized that if anything had been wrong with him I would have heard. I called the church ofice and asked if any missionaries were involved in any of the crashes and they said "no, all were OK" as far as they knew. So I was able to face the rest of the day calmly and just worried about when P would be able to come home.
I teach 14-15 year old kids at church and they are wonderful. They seem to have been given a remarkable evenness of temper and capacity to love and give and be obedient. They inspire me. I believe the world is in safe hands with them. Not that they will be able to conquer the terror and chaos of the world, but that they will be willing to trust the Lord and obey Him and fight on the side of right. They will be another greatest generation.

Anonymous said...

Hillybilly sister: I was working at JoAnn's Fabrics and Crafts. There wasn't a soul shopping that day at the store. They closed the store down and we all went home. I will never, ever, get that picture out of my mind of the planes crashing into the towers. I lived next door to the County Government Building and everyone there all went home as well. It was one of the quietest days I have ever known. I kept remembering our Dad, who was a Veteran of WWII.