It started as just another normal day-a crisp, cool fallish day with the bluest sky I had seen in a while. The vendors and deliveries came right on schedule at the back door of the grocery store where I was a receiving clerk. Small talk while processing the invoices took a sharp detour when one of the guys working the meat department burst through the door with the most shocking look I’d ever seen-his African-American face turning ash gray (no pun intended).
“My wife was just watching TV and she just saw a big plane hit one of the Twin Towers in New York!!” I barely knew what the Twin Towers were and so casually I retorted “So what?” thinking he was pulling some sort of prank. “Looks like another pilot driving while drunk” I quipped-a reference to some recent news.
“No!!” he shouted. “They’ve attacked us!! They’re killing us!!” he shouted, brandishing a meat cutter’s knife in readiness. “Who? What are you talking about??” I replied-totally clueless.
Suddenly, our store manager came bursting through the doors with a flushed, angry, ready to fight look on his face. Having known this man for many years, I knew something was wrong. He spoke seriously, and in a forced and deliberately quiet tone-almost as if he were holding back extreme anger-
“We’ve been attacked by terrorists. I want you to shut all these doors and let NO ONE ELSE in until I have cleared them-even if you know them. We are at war. Do you understand?”
At this point my mouth dropped open as I attempted to understand what they were trying to say-the United States had been deliberately attacked by some foreign power again???? Who were these idiots? (For the sake of this article I am deliberately refraining from using the real words) Who were these people who dared to attack my homeland and kill our people? Don’t they learn from history that when the US is provoked, we come in and win? I managed to sputter out more words and asked a few more questions. When it finally got through my head what had happened-coupled with the attacks on the Pentagon and the panic about the planes AND the knowledge that straight down the road beside the store was the back entrance to an Air Force base that had some strategic importance nationally-ignorance QUICKLY became “Let’s get these – – – – – – – – !!!”
You see, my father instilled a deep and profound sense of patriotism in me. Both WWII and Korean service had made him more loyal and protective of this country than ever before-and though I was a girl, he had made me promise that if the time ever came and he was already gone I would defend this nation and all that he and my mom had worked for with my very life. So now was the time. Like lightning the “protect” switch came on. I closed all the store doors, grabbed the butcher knife from the meat cutter and assured my manager that NO ONE would get into the store from THIS way-upon penalty of death for both them and me and that, like Davy Crockett at the Alamo I might die but I would take as many of the ——– with me as I could. I got clearance to let out any vendors that had already delivered, relocking the doors immediately.
Fortunately nothing happened at work. When I got home my mom had been watching the news and we discussed what had happened. She gave me updates. Although pretty mild mannered and even tempered about most things, she too was extremely angry, but composed. She knew how I would react. She knew I would go down protecting things because “that’s the way he (my dad) would want it”.
As the day wore on, the anger became almost unbearable. I needed to get back at these idiots and there was no way to do so. I needed to either strike a blow somehow or release the anger in a positive way. When I saw that a local church was having a prayer service to pray for America, the families etc I took advantage and went there. I needed to be able to get past the anger and be rational and cool to protect what we had if the need should arise.
Now I know that this solution is not for everyone-but for me attending church on a day when I was so angry I couldn’t even pray brought the stability and cool head I felt was needed. The final step was releasing the emotion-and the more images I saw and more facts that emerged the more of a necessity this issue became. I wasn’t until I heard and saw Alan Jackson’s performance of “Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning?” that the tears flowed freely and nonstop for several hours. And that performance was over 1 month later. Today I am 10 years older, wiser and more cognizant of the evils of the world and I live my life trusting God to protect me but still being more suspicious and untrusting that I was back then.
In retrospect these 10 years later, I can honestly say that the images of that day are as fresh as they were when they happened. Like most Americans I can recall vividly what happened and where I was when I first heard the news. Time hasn’t dimmed the images or the memories. If they are disturbing to me I can only imagine what the memories of those families directly affected have done.
How will I remember 9/11??? I will pray for this nation in my church service that morning as I did on that day 10 years ago, recall my personal experiences that I have related here, think about the differences and changes in my life and in this nation since then, trust God and my instincts to carry me through-and above all, never forget that day and the lessons we have all learned.