story1246.xml
Title
story1246.xml
Source
born-digital
Media Type
story
Date Entered
2002-08-19
911DA Story: Story
This Tuesday, September 11, 2001, I was home, safe and sound (or so I thought). I had just awakened, got dressed for work, and came downstairs with my twin sister. I turned on our local news (I do this every morning; it helps me to wake up. Now, I wish I hadn't watched it...but would have that changed anything??)
It was around 7:45 a.m. CST; and the usual news, weather and sports was on...an ordinary day, until a breaking news story caught my attention. Seems an airplane had accidently run into one of the World Trade Center Towers in New York City...I'd always wanted to go to New York City, and loved looking at pictures of the Twin Towers. I thought they were beautiful.
We both expressed shock and horror at the first scenes of a huge hole in the side of one of the Towers, and we both said a prayer. I mentioned that it was bound to happen, because planes fly around tall buildings all the time...Love Field is located right in the middle of downtown Dallas.
Then here came the second plane. IT DELIBERATELY ANGLED IN AND HIT THE SECOND TOWER.
Right then, I knew. This was no accident...we were under attack. A sick feeling of shock...fear...horror and unbelief. NO WAY, MAN. NOT HERE. NOT in the United States...not IN the UNITED STATES!!
I had to go to work, so I didn't get to watch any more of the news until much later that evening. My twin sister was so saddened by what she had seen, she turned off the television and cried. She was scared...what would happen next? She refused to watch.
When I got home from work later on that day (by then, I had learned that the Towers had fallen, the Pentagon had been attacked, and another plane had gone down, through word of mouth), my twin sister was still scared and upset, so we decided to go to church. She was delivered from a spirit of fear. We had a bite to eat and then came home; she went to bed, and thankfully, slept peacefully.
NOT ME. I turned on the t.v. and sat there for three straight hours, watching the day's events replay over and over and over and over again, searing into my mind. The planes hitting. The bursts of smoke and flame. Paper and God knows what else falling like confetti. People jumping for their lives...WHAT CHOICE WERE THEY GIVEN? The Towers falling--first one, then the other. The awful cloud of smoke and dust chasing people down the streets. The looks of panic and horror on everyone's faces. The sight of Congress singing "God bless America" on the Capital steps. The steely-eyed look of resolve and determination on our President's face. I saw all of this and more...and I cried like never before. Words started filling my mind, and the first of many poems was born that day.
God gave me an unexpected blessing, you see. He gave me a Gift for writing.
Before September 11's horror, I would hold everything in, whatever my emotion...especially if I were sad and angry. It would sit there and fester like a raging infection, sometimes for years, building and building until something would set me off. I was mean and nasty.
September 11 changed all that. When nightmares wake me up, or I wake up with some ideas in my head, I write them down.
Now, I release my emotions onto paper or onto my web page on Author's Den. It has calmed me considerably. I am more able to express myself effectively; I don't feel angry and bitter all of the time.
As of this time, I've written over 200 poems, and over 50 articles. Several of them deal with September 11. Two of my poems have been published. That's nice, but the biggest blessing is that it lets me express my emotions in a way I had never done before, no matter what it is.
Where was I on September 11? I'll never forget it...and I'll always remember. I know where I was when Kennedy was shot, when man first landed on the moon, when Elvis died, when the Challenger exploded, when the Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City was bombed...and now, when America was attacked.
God bless America.
It was around 7:45 a.m. CST; and the usual news, weather and sports was on...an ordinary day, until a breaking news story caught my attention. Seems an airplane had accidently run into one of the World Trade Center Towers in New York City...I'd always wanted to go to New York City, and loved looking at pictures of the Twin Towers. I thought they were beautiful.
We both expressed shock and horror at the first scenes of a huge hole in the side of one of the Towers, and we both said a prayer. I mentioned that it was bound to happen, because planes fly around tall buildings all the time...Love Field is located right in the middle of downtown Dallas.
Then here came the second plane. IT DELIBERATELY ANGLED IN AND HIT THE SECOND TOWER.
Right then, I knew. This was no accident...we were under attack. A sick feeling of shock...fear...horror and unbelief. NO WAY, MAN. NOT HERE. NOT in the United States...not IN the UNITED STATES!!
I had to go to work, so I didn't get to watch any more of the news until much later that evening. My twin sister was so saddened by what she had seen, she turned off the television and cried. She was scared...what would happen next? She refused to watch.
When I got home from work later on that day (by then, I had learned that the Towers had fallen, the Pentagon had been attacked, and another plane had gone down, through word of mouth), my twin sister was still scared and upset, so we decided to go to church. She was delivered from a spirit of fear. We had a bite to eat and then came home; she went to bed, and thankfully, slept peacefully.
NOT ME. I turned on the t.v. and sat there for three straight hours, watching the day's events replay over and over and over and over again, searing into my mind. The planes hitting. The bursts of smoke and flame. Paper and God knows what else falling like confetti. People jumping for their lives...WHAT CHOICE WERE THEY GIVEN? The Towers falling--first one, then the other. The awful cloud of smoke and dust chasing people down the streets. The looks of panic and horror on everyone's faces. The sight of Congress singing "God bless America" on the Capital steps. The steely-eyed look of resolve and determination on our President's face. I saw all of this and more...and I cried like never before. Words started filling my mind, and the first of many poems was born that day.
God gave me an unexpected blessing, you see. He gave me a Gift for writing.
Before September 11's horror, I would hold everything in, whatever my emotion...especially if I were sad and angry. It would sit there and fester like a raging infection, sometimes for years, building and building until something would set me off. I was mean and nasty.
September 11 changed all that. When nightmares wake me up, or I wake up with some ideas in my head, I write them down.
Now, I release my emotions onto paper or onto my web page on Author's Den. It has calmed me considerably. I am more able to express myself effectively; I don't feel angry and bitter all of the time.
As of this time, I've written over 200 poems, and over 50 articles. Several of them deal with September 11. Two of my poems have been published. That's nice, but the biggest blessing is that it lets me express my emotions in a way I had never done before, no matter what it is.
Where was I on September 11? I'll never forget it...and I'll always remember. I know where I was when Kennedy was shot, when man first landed on the moon, when Elvis died, when the Challenger exploded, when the Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City was bombed...and now, when America was attacked.
God bless America.
Collection
Citation
“story1246.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed January 9, 2025, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/12769.