story6002.xml

story6002.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-09-12

My name is Beverly Williams. On the morning of Tuesday, September 11, 2001, I had just walked into my supervisor's office to sign in for the day. New Orleans is one hour earlier than New York, so it was 7:46 a.m., New Orleans time when the first plane hit. My supervisor had the radio on, and the first reports were coming over that an airplane had just hit the World Trade Center. I turned to look at my supervisor and said "What did they just say?" He confirmed what we both had heard. But at the moment, neither of us knew what had really happened. I made some comment that some nut must have flew a small plane into the tower and killed himself. I figured the Towers could certainly withstand the impact of such a plane. I turned to walk out, not even giving it a second thought. I went into my office, and started my work day. Shortly thereafter, I heard some of my co-workers running down the hallway screaming that the Pentagon was under attack, and that they thought it had been bombed!! I didn't connect it right away about the plane and the Tower, but I remember saying to myself, "if the Pentagon's been bombed, we must be at war." That really shook me. Then, someone else ran up to tell us that another airplane had struck the second Tower. We all looked at each other trying to process all of this. Someone even said they thought it was all a prank, some television stunt or something. No one wanted to believe it was true. Then, more information was being passed, person-to-person; and, we were told the television was on in our Administrator's office, and in the second-floor conference room. Our worst fears were confirmed, and then we knew it was real. But, it still didn't feel real. We were sitting there, glued to the television sets, but not really believing what we saw unfolding before our very eyes. There was litle work being done. Most of us stayed by the television sets most of the day, feeling more helpless and hopeless with each passing minute. I remember that sick feeling I felt in the pit of my stomach when the first Tower started to go down. "Incredulous," I said, "it just imploded, like somebody set off an explosive charge to take down a vacant building!" But it wasn't a vacant building. I knew in my heart that there were still people trying to get out of there. I tried to imagine what they must be going through, but it just didn't compute. I felt an even bigger knot in my stomach when the second Tower did the same. I couldn't imagine someone thinking that God wanted them to do this dastardly, cowardly deed. Afterall, any God worth serving would be certainly able to take care of his own business himself, and not trust it to any man! How wickedly self-serving of them to think that they could so speak for Him?!! I was appalled, hurt, angry and outraged all at once! But in the end, all I could do was pray. Pray for the unsuspecting victims who woke up that day thinking it was just going to be another average day. I also prayed for their family members and friends who never once thought that the last time they saw or spoke to their loved one was really their last. I also prayed for the rest of us that we would be strong enough to see them through their pain and utter despair. And I prayed that the people who did this can one day understand that they did a terrible, terrible thing. I continue to pray for us all.