Thursday, September 07, 2006

 

In Remembrance of September 11

Each of us know where we were when news of the planes crashing into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon came over the radio and television. We remember the rush of varied emotions. Below is a short essay of my remembrance, my feelings at that moment. I encourage everyone to respond in some way, to someone, your memories of that day.

The Moment Time Stood Still

I climbed into the truck after a delivery in Tahlequah, Oklahoma. Radio personalities, John Boy and Billy, were talking about a small commuter plane that had crashed into a building in New York City. For some reason, what they said fascinated me. I usually absorbed bad news on the radio with a quiet resolve and went about my business. This time, I listened to every word. I felt something was horribly wrong.

New, sketchy reports came in while driving to the next delivery - an Indian school outside of town, on the road to Muskogee. The television in their cafeteria was always on the news, so I might be able to find out more on what was happening. No one there knew anything had happened; the news was just background noise to their morning routine.

I relayed what I had been hearing on the radio and several of us went into the cafeteria to see what FOX News was reporting. The reporter was describing the scene of destruction. By now, the reports were of a jetliner flying into the World Trade Center.

Then it happened. Seared into my mind, as almost everyone else in America, the second jetliner steered directly into the second tower.

I have seen great tragedies on a personal and local level; never have I seen something on a global scale such as this. Death, destruction, history, pain, hatred, confusion, shock all rushed through my mind. The ladies around me were in tears; sobs replaced the words no one person could utter.

Horror soon followed as we saw people near the top of those towers jumping to their deaths. The sobs and tears turned to wails of grief.

Nothing would ever be the same. America grew up with World War II. We lost our innocence in the 60s. What would happen now?

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