So I knew today was coming. September 11th is always one of those days that just gets you thinking about where you were when the attacks happened, gets you counting your blessings, puts that lump in your throat. I grew up in a fiercely patriotic family, so when the planes flew into the buildings, it felt like a personal attack. We were all scared. We didn't know what was coming. And living (and going to college) a few minutes from the world's largest naval base, we were all on super high alert.
And I swore I wouldn't be glued to the television all day. I know when I have had my fill of emotion. I watched enough to get my mind back to that day, enough to remind me of how heavy my heart felt that morning, but then I stopped. I had to.
I sat in the den floor, surrounded by baby toys and blankets and coupons from the Sunday paper. I was irritated that, yet again, Caleb wanted to nurse when I wanted to be heading to church. I've not been to our church for weeks...and one of the ladies in choir even sent me a note that
really hurt my feelings for being gone so long...and as I wallowed in the injustice of it all, I turned on the 9/11 memorial ceremony in NYC. And there was Paul Simon, playing guitar and singing "Sound of Silence." I'd never really
listened to the words before. ..and this stanza struck me...
"And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
No one dare
Disturb the sound of silence"
Silence. Deafening silence. I remember it.
I can tell you where I was. What I was doing. Every detail of the day. I had the Today show on and was getting up to head to class. Whitehurst hall, room 311. Sitting on the yellow jersey sheets and blue bedspread with yellow flowers. Saw the first tower burn. Felt sadness. Then I saw the 2nd plane come into the screen, gasped...my hand flew to my mouth as I said, "no, no, no!" then it hit. Fireball. Gasp again. I think I forgot to breathe. Screamed for the roomies to come into my room. We all stood there in silence. What had just happened? Kids on my hall started opening their doors. My AOL Instant Messenger started beeping as everyone I knew was IM-ing me on the computer. Tears in my eyes. My boyfriend at the time, Bobby, was trying to get in touch with his mom who worked at Ft. Belvoir. None of the cell phones would work, the towers were jammed. Terror. What was happening?
I rode my bike to class. I only had one jerk professor who didn't cancel. We talked over him and he finally turned the lecture into coverage of the event. (It was a communications media class.) Back to the dorms. The "pit" in the lobby, a sunken in area with a big screen that was usually on MTV or BET was tuned into the news. The pit was filled with horrified kids my age. The cafeteria was filled with a low hum of terror. In Webb Center, all the TVs were on the news. Everywhere, we watched. Silent. Gasps as people jumped to their deaths instead of burning alive. Tears. Fellow students trying frantically to get through to friends and family--so many people at ODU have military ties to the Pentagon. It took me almost six hours to get in touch with Bobby's mom, and I could finally pass along the message to him when he returned from class. We were so scared. There were so many questions we couldn't answer. I remember one of the kids on B Tower 1st floor...his aunt was a flight attendant on the plane that hit the Pentagon. More and more stories got around about how friends and people we loved were, in some way, linked to victims. And as the RA on my floor, I was supposed to be keeping everyone calm. But who was keeping me calm? Those terrorists succeeded in a physical attack, but the emotional one they caused throughout our country spread quickly and powerfully.
9-11 is one of my dear friends' birthdays. It was a Tuesday night, and we had our weekly resident assistant Bible study in Amber's room. It was Karis' 20th birthday. We wanted to celebrate, but we weren't sure how after the day's events. We bought Ben and Jerry's in the C-store, then headed up to the laundry room for the access door we'd found that led to the roof. (Shhhh! lol) We crawled up there and sat on the roof and ate our ice cream. We weren't really sure what to say or do or how to feel. I remember Amber led us in prayer. We tried to be happy for Karis, but there was such a heaviness to the air. And, after complete air silence all day, a single jet took off from the naval station and flew low over our dorms...we all stopped...we looked up in silence as it passed overhead...we
did talk without speaking, we were listening without hearing...
Our world was forever changed.
And there I sat this morning, nursing my son as Paul Simon commemorated that terrible day. As the families of the victims searched for their names and dug in their purses and pockets for pens to make rubbings of the names etched into the memorial. Tears. Flowers. Uniforms. Songs that said what words alone couldn't.
Then, MSNBC played the news coverage from
that day. It was deja vu. It brought back every feeling, every heartache. My reaction was exactly the same. My gasp. My hand flying to my mouth. It was all the same. Except for one thing.
I knew how the story ended.
When I was younger, my dad and mom used to tell me that they could remember exactly where they were and what they were doing when they found out Kennedy had been shot. I thought that was so weird. How on earth could you remember details like that? And then 9-11 happened. That is the "Kennedy" of my generation, though on a hugely more devastating scale. I, like them, remember the smallest details of my day. It's something I will tell Caleb and his children one day. And they'll think it's so odd I can remember everything in detail from so long ago, too.
Brandon and I always laugh about the things Caleb will never know in his lifetime. He'll never use a pay phone. He'll never have to wait on dial up. He will never be able to fill up his gas tank with the change he finds laying around. Drive thrus will have always been around. Cell phones will have always been in existence, and they will have always had texting and internet access. But as I held him in my arms this morning, my eyes tearing up as I heard the tributes and then saw the news footage, I realized there's so much else that will be different in his lifetime. He will never know what it's like to fly without taking his shoes off to be x-rayed or how convenient it used to be to take a soda on a plane. He will never know a world without security cameras on every corner, wire taps, Big Brother tracking Internet use for those key words. He'll never know a world without terrorist threats, without some "bad guy" trying to rise to power. He'll never know the innocence Brandon and I felt as kids, how we grew up feeling safe. How we didn't always look over our shoulder. We'll never take him to a crowded place without fearing some crazy might be lurking around the corner. How sad that he was born into a world where the evil in men's hearts seeks to smother the good.
I remember where I was when the world stopped turning. But I also remember how it felt to see it turning again. And if anything good came out of September 11th, it was September 12th.
I remember the pride. The love. Everyone in the dorm checked in on their neighbors. Families hugged a little longer before saying goodbye. Everyone,
everyone, was proud to be an American. Flags were everywhere...pins, shirts, stickers, magnets. My mom went all over Tidewater trying to find safety pins and beads to make little bead flags; one of them stayed on my Jansport bookbag for nearly nine years before it finally rusted and came apart. I wore one of her bead flags to school on Friday. I remember how we were all on the same side. There were no political parties, only Americans. I remember seeing Congress standing on the Capitol steps and breaking into an a cappella rendition of God Bless America. And we really
did want God to bless America. I remember how crazy crowded church became. I remember all the country music artists writing songs about 9-11. I remember thanking the cops and FD guys who came to our dorms, when before I took them for granted. I remember praying for the victims and their families. I remember the surge in patriotism. How we all stood united. How we all cried, our hearts all broke, but our spirits soared. How beautiful that out of such an ugly tragedy, the American people stood as one. Lady Liberty never stood so tall as on 9-12.
My wish for Caleb is to know and respect fear, but not to live in fear. I want him to live in a world where respect rules. Where people actually care for their fellow man. Where Americans really
get how blessed we are. Where our freedoms aren't taken for granted. I want him to respect people in office, even though he may not agree with them. To pray each night for the safe return of our soldiers. To understand that one person can make a difference. I want him to see people as people. I want him to seek God for the answers no one else has. I want him to be as proud to be an American as I am, as his Gramma and Grampa are. I want him to see the legacy of military service in my family. I hope he realizes the sacrifices people have made so he can live a life better than 99% of the world's population. I know he won't live in a perfect world. I realize evil will always be here, that the bad guy will always try to hurt the good guys. I want Caleb to live right, love others, respect differences, look for good, honor God.
I wish we could all rekindle that 9-12 feeling. After a decade, we are still healing. Still rebuilding. But we let our hearts slip back to the old ways.
So as I put my little guy to bed tonight, I prayed for his future. I held him a little tighter. It's scary to have a new baby in a world with such ugliness. But I trust God. Whatever is to be is part of His plan.
And when I came back out to the den, as I watched the opening to the Jets/Cowboys game, my heart grew, my eyes teared up, and my patriotism swelled. The flag covered the entire football field and was held by NYC first responders. Lady Antebellum did a beautiful rendition of The Star Spangled Banner. Robert deNiro gave a touching speech from the new Trade Center memorial. That beautiful stars and stripes will always prevail. The terrorists can try, but they can't kill our spirit. Today felt like the September 12th America.
I wish that
that could be the America my little boy knows everyday.
