Eleven

 Nearly everyone in our country has a “I remember where I was when I heard the news…” story about the terror attacks of September 11, 2001. It’s so hard to believe it is now 11 years later.

I’ve heard from friends who were in Wal Mart when they heard the news…or working on remote job sites and didn’t hear the news for many hours…and others who found out at the water cooler. “Did you hear?…”

As I told you yesterday, my plan on September 11, 2001 was to return to work at Roane State after a nice three day weekend and start the day by going through emails from the day before. I had briefly greeted the team members in the public relations department that morning. Later, I started going through my email when a campus-wide notice went out shortly before 9 a.m. telling everyone about the first crash - when American Airlines Flight 11 crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center.

Just after 9, when United Flight 175 crashed into the South Tower, another campus-wide email went out detailing the news of the second attack. Instinctively, we all knew that this was no horrible accident; we all knew that we were at war.

The fun and frivolity of the day before – and life as we experienced it before 9/11 – was officially over and a new era in our lives had begun. I think we all knew that on some level.

Immediately, I called home. Lisa was home sick that morning and doing some work on her Master’s thesis research. I told her the news and suggested she should switch on the tv set. That was how she first heard the news.

Meanwhile, I went down the hall to the office where we kept the department’s television, which, normally aired video of on-air interviews of Roane State faculty and staff or our latest television spots. Not so on that day.

We turned on the set and began watching as the details flashed at us rapid-fire. Literally, we didn’t do another bit of work for the rest of that week. We huddled around the tv. People in our building and others on campus would stop by from time to time to get a brief update on the latest news. Many of them would leave after a moment, shaking their heads in disbelief.

I remember, vividly, how our department’s intern reacted – with loud exclamations and physical pain – when the first of the towers fell later that day. I remember nodding, silently, when Tom Brokaw of NBC news told us, calmly, that we were now at war and life, as we knew it, had changed in an instant.

The rest of that week is a blur but there are moments I will always remember.

First, I remember that the board members of Farragut Baseball, Inc. elected not to cancel any games or practices officially. That night, my coach-pitch team played. I remember one little fellah telling me about the terror attacks and asking me what it all meant.

They don’t prepare you for questions like that in the pre-season coaching clinic.

I also remember how odd it was that all the planes were grounded. The skies were quiet. But on Friday night, when my team had its regular practice, I remember everyone stopping and watching as a large Air Force refueling plane, based at the local National Guard airbase, passed over our fields as part of a training mission.

Earlier that day, I remember President Bush and two of the most iconic shots of the week – first, when he was speaking at the National Cathedral and his dad, former President Bush, lightly patted his shoulder after his brief remarks. That week, all dads were trying to comfort their sons.

Later that same day, the President comforted us all when he went to New York, stood atop a pile of rubble and addressed firefighters and first responders using a megaphone to project his voice. He told us “the people who knocked these buildings down would hear from all of us soon.”

The crowd cheered and chanted “USA, USA, USA!”

That spirit of patriotism was prevalent. I remember flags everywhere – including the one we deployed on our front porch at our house on Twin Hill Lane.

I remember, that Sunday, sitting in the grass and talking to my next door neighbor and we tried to make sense of the events of the week and took stock of where we were going as we moved forward as a nation.

And today, I think we’re still taking stock.

Tonight when I arrived home from work, almost on cue, I heard the Farragut High School marching band practicing for Friday night’s game. Our current house is close enough that we can hear the band - especially this time of year when the humidity is low and the air not so thick.

As I got out of my car to greet Roger the cat, I heard the strains of “The Star Spangled Banner” coming from the north. I stopped. I placed my hand over my heart. I listened.

Seemed like the appropriate thing to do on this day.

JG  

(Source: The New York Times)

Originally posted 9/11/2012