I remember exactly where I was, what I was wearing, what I felt when I found out about the events of that tragic day. It was my sophomore year of high school. I was wearing blue track pants, a white T-shirt, and flip flops. My hair was in a messy bun. I had just sat down in 10am biology and was chatting with a couple of my classmates when another teacher ran into the room and insisted we turn on the news. It felt like all the blood had left my body as we sat silently watching the footage of the planes crashing into the World Trade Center towers replay over and over, barely hearing what the news anchors were saying.
Our teacher frantically fumbled through her bag for her cell phone. I could tell she was trying to keep it together in front of us, but she couldn't for long. After trying to call someone for several minutes she burst into tears. She buzzed the front office to get a substitute for the rest of the day, but before she left, she she told us that her brother worked in an office in the towers. My heart broke for her. We were surprised to see her back the next day. Turns out her brother was running really late to work that day and was still at home when it happened.
Then we heard about the Pentagon and the crash in Pennsylvania. We were watching when the first tower fell; it was like it happened in slow motion. There was a moment of shocked silence that seemed to last forever until the girl in front of me began sobbing. The atmosphere in the school was somber; there was no joking, laughing, or teasing. And that continued for the rest of the week as our attention was trained on CNN instead of our usual class schedule.
Then we heard about the Pentagon and the crash in Pennsylvania. We were watching when the first tower fell; it was like it happened in slow motion. There was a moment of shocked silence that seemed to last forever until the girl in front of me began sobbing. The atmosphere in the school was somber; there was no joking, laughing, or teasing. And that continued for the rest of the week as our attention was trained on CNN instead of our usual class schedule.
Then came the music. So many patriotic songs came out in the following months, some even years later, giving us a sharp reminder of how we felt that day. It's been fourteen years and I still cry every time I hear "Where Were You When The World Stopped Turning?" by Alan Jackson.
Today, I will spend a lot of time in prayer, thanking God for each day he has given me, knowing that they could be gone in an instant. Praying for the survivors, rescue teams, medical teams, and the families of those lost.
Today, I will spend a lot of time in prayer, thanking God for each day he has given me, knowing that they could be gone in an instant. Praying for the survivors, rescue teams, medical teams, and the families of those lost.
Do you remember where you were? what you were doing? wearing? Do you remember how you felt that day?
I'll never forget.
No comments :
Post a Comment
Thank you for stopping by!
I read, appreciate, and try to respond (on the blog or via email) to every comment because I truly love receiving feedback from you lovelies. If you don't hear from me, please make sure you are not a "No Reply" blogger.