Seven years ago today is a day that is forever etched in my memory. I had scaled back to teaching three days a week, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, so on that beautiful Tuesday morning, September 11, 2001, I was at home with my two very young sons. Ryan was just a couple of months shy of being 2, and Evan was almost 8 months. It was a typical morning there on Mackenzie Drive, just relaxing on a day off, and enyoying my babies. Typical, that is, until I recieved a phone call from Greg saying that one of the Towers had been hit by a plane, and no one had any idea what was happening. I immediately turned on the news, but found no answers. Those who usually knew what was going on in the world were as clueless as I. A few short, but never-ending moments revealed a horror that only those full of hatred could devise and fulfill. It was no accident. America was being attacked and no one knew where it would stop. The sunshine of the morning quickly turned to clouds of fear and anxiety, as I became aware of my own vulnerability. Not wanting to be alone, I packed the kids into the van and went to Pilgrim Christian. I stayed there for awhile, welcoming the opportunity to talk with others about the events that were taking place. Those of us you who were adults on 9-11-2001 probably fully understand those feelings.
September 11, 2008...It is a beautiful morning. The air is crisp, the sun is bright. My responsibilities are a little greater than they were seven years ago. I now have two daughters for whom I am responsible. As we all packed into the minivan this morning and headed for school, tears filled my eyes. The emotions of September 11, 2001 flooded back over me in waves. Clips of the horrible day were being replayed on the news, and the boys began to ask more questions. Although they had watched taped footage of the nightmarish events, they still could not fathom the enormity of the Towers or the immposibility of a safe escape for its occupants. I began to explain...tall buildings, fire, smoke, thousands of people, airline fuel, bad men who hate America...it was more than I could cover in the short drive to school, but this evening I plan to pull out those tapes, and go back with them to September 11, 2001. I want to once again explain to them why our friends and neighbors are leaving their families and heading to Iraq and Afghanistan to fight terrorism. I want to make sure they understand there are those in America who want to destroy her from the inside, not with planes and bombs, but by destroying her Biblical foundation and her democracy. I want them to understand that if they want a free America, they will either fight for her abroad or at home. Either place will bring a fight, a struggle between right and wrong, and a victory that must be achieved.
Yes, I'm saddened that I will never be able to take my children to the top of the World Trade Center, a privilege that I had on my senior class trip, but I can pass on the stories of hope, courage, and patriotism that were written that fateful day, September 11, 2001. We Will Never Forget!
