Just Keeping A Promise
A little more than two million minutes. That's how much time has passed since that fateful day. The day when innocence was lost to our country- forever. Though over two million minutes have passed since then, the thousand or so minutes of that day will remain etched in my mind for all time. I was headed to teach school in Layton. En route, I needed to stop by Wal-Mart to take my wife's birthday present out of layaway (her birthday is later in September, but I was about due for the allotted time for layaway). I had been listening to a local talk radio show, and just before I parked the car, I heard mention of a plane having struck the World Trade Center. As I listened further, the size of the plane varied from a small passenger plane to a large DC-10, depending on the varying accounts of witnesses.
I was intrigued, but focused on the task at hand- getting my wife's dress. At the layaway counter, I waited for what seemed like hours. Finally, the cashier was ready to help me. As I finished the transaction, I asked her if she had heard about a plane hitting the World Trade Center. She said she hadn't, but as with my initial reaction, wasn't overly concerned by it.
When I returned to my car, the realities of the horrors of the day were just beginning- the second plane had struck the second tower. The United States was under attack!
I hurried to my school not daring to believe what my ears were hearing... Total recall.. North Tower... Planes... Smoke... Terrorist.
As I exited the freeway, the news worsened. Washington, D.C. had also come under attack with news of the Pentagon in flames as well. I cursed out loud and tried to make it to my school as fast as I could. After parking the car, I ran into the main office and shouted, "The Pentagon's been hit!" The faces of my coworkers said it all. We were devastated. And what's more, we had to still teach students- or at the very least, keep them calm.
Before heading to my classroom, I went to the media center. It was there that I first witnessed the destruction. Ironically, my first thought was that it didn't look "that bad", and I honestly felt that the towers would remain standing.
I tore myself away from the television and went to my classroom. Facing those middle-school aged students was a very difficult task. They showered me with question all day- "Are we at war? Will we be safe here? What about my parents? Are family members in the military going to have to go somewhere?" I fielded the questions as best I could. I hooked up my classroom television to my computer and allowed them to watch the best we could on MSNBC.
When I arrived home at the end of the day, I remember envying my three year old daughter who had no clue as to the terror around her. I also felt sorry that she would never truly know a "pre-9/11" world. I also remember the calming words sung by "our" own Mormon Tabernacle Choir that evening. "...Thine alabaster cities gleam, undimmed by human tears!"
All of us will vividly remember the events of that day. Since then, we have erected countless memorials to remind us, (including one at my current place of employment) many inscribed with the promise- "We will never forget".
That's why I share my own account, as "simplistic" as it may sound.
I'm keeping a promise.
I was intrigued, but focused on the task at hand- getting my wife's dress. At the layaway counter, I waited for what seemed like hours. Finally, the cashier was ready to help me. As I finished the transaction, I asked her if she had heard about a plane hitting the World Trade Center. She said she hadn't, but as with my initial reaction, wasn't overly concerned by it.
When I returned to my car, the realities of the horrors of the day were just beginning- the second plane had struck the second tower. The United States was under attack!
I hurried to my school not daring to believe what my ears were hearing... Total recall.. North Tower... Planes... Smoke... Terrorist.
As I exited the freeway, the news worsened. Washington, D.C. had also come under attack with news of the Pentagon in flames as well. I cursed out loud and tried to make it to my school as fast as I could. After parking the car, I ran into the main office and shouted, "The Pentagon's been hit!" The faces of my coworkers said it all. We were devastated. And what's more, we had to still teach students- or at the very least, keep them calm.
Before heading to my classroom, I went to the media center. It was there that I first witnessed the destruction. Ironically, my first thought was that it didn't look "that bad", and I honestly felt that the towers would remain standing.
I tore myself away from the television and went to my classroom. Facing those middle-school aged students was a very difficult task. They showered me with question all day- "Are we at war? Will we be safe here? What about my parents? Are family members in the military going to have to go somewhere?" I fielded the questions as best I could. I hooked up my classroom television to my computer and allowed them to watch the best we could on MSNBC.
When I arrived home at the end of the day, I remember envying my three year old daughter who had no clue as to the terror around her. I also felt sorry that she would never truly know a "pre-9/11" world. I also remember the calming words sung by "our" own Mormon Tabernacle Choir that evening. "...Thine alabaster cities gleam, undimmed by human tears!"
All of us will vividly remember the events of that day. Since then, we have erected countless memorials to remind us, (including one at my current place of employment) many inscribed with the promise- "We will never forget".
That's why I share my own account, as "simplistic" as it may sound.
I'm keeping a promise.
posted by Lancer at 3:44 PM
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