story4304.xml

story4304.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-09-11

After routinely opening the library at 7am CST and getting things organized, my co-workers and I were shocked to hear (from staff that arrived around 8am) that a jet had flown into one of the Towers. Not being familiar with far away New York, we didn't really realize the impact of that statement. We immediately tried to find information about it on the internet and just as quickly, the internet shut down. It was totally overloaded with people worldwide trying to access information about the tragedy. We turned on radios to try to get more info and slowly we were informed of the enormity of the tragedy. I immediately began to say silent prayers to Christ for the wounded and dying and for their families. My younger son called me(unaware of what was happening) and told me that my infant grandson was ill. I immediately left work to go take care of him, but on the drive there I heard that the Pentagon had been attacked. I knew then that this was a well-planned, deliberate attack on the U.S. by someone and that we would go to war. While grieving for the loss of life at the Towers (although at this point I had no idea of how many people were injured), I was fearful for our military who would be called upon to defend us. I wasn't so sure, either, that an attack might not be made upon my own little east Texas town. I reached my son's home and found him watching the TV about the attacks. At this point very little was known except that three planes had hit targets. The fourth had not yet been heroically plowed into the Pennsylvania dirt by Americans trying to save the White House or some other target. My son went on to work and I held my infant grandson and cried as I watched the horrific scene unfold on television. I later went back to work and then went home to watch more coverage on the TV. I watched, cried and prayed. At some point I started writing things in a journal to help me put things in focus. The grief and destruction that I saw on television was something that I had never witnessed in my life of 49 years. It consumed my thoughts for two weeks. However, I worked, went to church, did my normal things that I have to do. Gradually I began to be able to concentrate on other things, but continued to cry each time I saw a picture or image of the horror or the people affected by it. Sweet songs of Christ's love and comfort that I heard on the radio, my Bible readings, times spent at church, and talks with my family, friends and co-workers helped to bring back a semblance of order to my world. I knew that others were not so fortunate. My family and friends became even more precious to me as I, along with the rest of America, realized anew the fragility of life and the need to make each moment important. Patriotism abounded in our little town and flags were seen everywhere. Bumper stickers and posters were displayed and continue to this date, one year later. Today, September 11, 2002, we remember that we are not alone in this world and that people in New York, Washington, D.C., and Pennsylvania especially are struggling with life and loneliness for their lost loved ones. The survivors, too, are still in the process of finding meaning to it all and many have come to find that God is able to do miraculous things still. Although I know that evil is present and bent on destroying innocent people, God is in control, and that the American spirit cannot be diminished. My children and my three grandchildren can live their lives trusting a holy God and knowing that they are in His love and care.