"Somebody bombed the World Trade Center."
Like so many of you, I'll remember those words for the rest of my life. Ironically, I was giving a workshop on diversity on September 11, 2001. My students and I had been in training since 8 am, discussing tolerance and understanding in the workplace, oblivious to the events that were tragically unfolding around us.
Shortly after 10:00 am, we took our first break. As I worked through the break to prepare for the next part of my lesson, I noticed students were slow to return to their seats -- and I wondered why. Finally, a young man from the back of the room said the words I'll never forget:
"What?" I said aloud. In my mind I was convinced this man must be mistaken. My son and I had just visited the World Trade Center earlier that year. We sat at its' base, our heads back -- full tilt -- gazing up at the enormity of these two giant towers while enjoying the buzz of the hundreds of people whirling around us. My mind went back to the 1993 truck bomb attack of the Trade Center, convinced that this recent event was similar to that. Surely there was no way these buildings could come down. I asked my students to begin their assigned activity while I went to investigate.
When I walked outside my room, I found televisions pulled out into the hallway of the college with people gathered around them -- faces stunned by what they were witnessing. It was live chaos on a 27 inch screen. Footage of the second plane hitting the building, the towers collapsing, the Pentagon hit -- and now breaking news that United Airlines Flight 93 had crashed in a field outside of Pittsburgh. I stood paralyzed by the shock and awe of what I too was seeing and hearing.
And then I remembered. My always-traveling-husband had left for a business trip earlier that morning -- bound for New York City. In a split second, the wave of terror suffocated me. "Oh my God! My husband!" I shouted out as I ran to my car. Trembling, I hastily searched for my phone, turned it on and yelled for it to hurry and power up. Suddenly the beeps signaling missed calls rang one after another. Impatiently, I listened through the voicemails hoping to hear my husband's voice......"Cindy call me. Is Lew ok? Do you know what's going on?" said my friend. "Cindy, have you heard about what's happening in New York City? Have you heard from Lew?" said my sister. "Cindy! Deb said Lew flew into New York this morning. I just hope he's okay. Call me," said my mom in a tearful voice. And finally: "Cindy, I'm okay. It's crazy here. I don't know if I'll have cell service for long. I've talked to Rebecca and she's okay. I'm worried about Mike in Philadelphia. I don't know what's going on -- they're attacking everything. Call me back. Hopefully you'll be able to get through. I love you," said my husband.
With relief, I broke down and cried. And then I prayed, thankful for God's protection over him....asking for protection for our daughter who lived in Manhattan and for our son who was at school in Philadelphia -- worried that his city, a symbol of our nation's freedom, would also be on the hit list of whoever was attacking us. I prayed for all who who shared my fears -- but may never get to hear their loved ones' voices again.
As the frightening day unfolded, I learned my husband's plane had been ordered to stay in the sky -- most likely until officials could ensure it too was not on a deadly mission. While circling, he saw both towers on fire and suspected the worst. But even the plotlines from his oft-read Tom Clancy novels could not have predicted the reality of New York City that day. It was bedlam.
Evil attempted to rule the day -- but goodness triumphed. On that day, we were united as a nation. We came together as Americans -- not separated by political party, race, religion, economic status, gender, age, or culture. For a day -- and for many that followed -- we were human beings who helped one another. Good men and women sacrificing their time, their money, their talent, their sweat and tears -- and even their lives -- to help strangers in need.
With hotels filled and subways, trains, buses, car rentals, and now the airport shut down, my husband's only hope for refuge came from the kindness of a taxi-cab driver who opened his door and offered to drive him through chaotic, jammed-up traffic to his uncle's home in Long Island. After several hours together, he dropped my husband off at his destination -- and refused to charge him a fare. Wow.
Evil attempted to rule the day -- but goodness triumphed. On that day, we were united as a nation. We came together as Americans -- not separated by political party, race, religion, economic status, gender, age, or culture. For a day -- and for many that followed -- we were human beings who helped one another. Good men and women sacrificing their time, their money, their talent, their sweat and tears -- and even their lives -- to help strangers in need.
With hotels filled and subways, trains, buses, car rentals, and now the airport shut down, my husband's only hope for refuge came from the kindness of a taxi-cab driver who opened his door and offered to drive him through chaotic, jammed-up traffic to his uncle's home in Long Island. After several hours together, he dropped my husband off at his destination -- and refused to charge him a fare. Wow.
Today, a mere nine years separates us from the events of that day -- yet, sadly, our country finds itself divided again. Perhaps you'll share my prayer and hope on this anniversary -- for each of us to remember what a difference Tuesday, September 11, 2001 made and to embrace the perspective it gave us......once again.
The Difference a Day Made
On Monday there were people fighting against praying in schools:
On Tuesday you would have been hard pressed to find a school where someone was not praying.
On Monday there were people trying to separate each other by race, sex, color, and creed:
On Tuesday they were all holding hands.
On Monday we thought that we were secure:
On Tuesday we learned better.
On Monday we were talking about heroes as being athletes:
On Tuesday we relearned what hero meant.
On Monday people went to work at the world trade centers as usual:
On Tuesday they died.
On Monday people were fighting the 10 commandments on government property:
On Tuesday the same people all said, "God help us all" while thinking, "Thou shalt not kill."
On Monday people argued with their kids about picking up their room:
On Tuesday the same people could not get home fast enough to hug their kids.
On Monday people picked up McDonalds for dinner:
On Tuesday they stayed home.
On Monday people were upset that their dry cleaning was not ready on time:
On Tuesday they were lining up to give blood for the dying.
On Monday politicians argued about budget surpluses:
On Tuesday grief stricken they sang "God Bless America."
On Monday we worried about the traffic and getting to work late:
On Tuesday we worried about a plane crashing into your house or place of business.
On Monday some children had solid families:
On Tuesday they were orphans.
On Monday the president was going to Florida to read to children:
On Tuesday he returned to Washington to protect our children.
On Monday we emailed jokes:
On Tuesday we did not.
It is sadly ironic how it takes horrific events to place things into perspective, but it has. The lessons learned this week, the things we have taken for granted, the things that have been forgotten or overlooked, hopefully will never be forgotten again.
~ Author Unknown
The video below was created to remember the events of September 11, 2001. It opened a women's conference I spoke at honoring women who stepped up to make a difference for people impacted by that day.
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