Where were you on September 11, 2001? I know you remember. Who could ever forget? I woke up early that morning in horrible pain. I couldn't swallow and my throat felt like it was on fire. My fever was close to 102 degrees. I called my friend, Cyndi. She was the nurse at my doctor's office. She told me to be at the office as soon as I could and they would work me into the schedule. I called in sick to work and headed to the doctor's office where I waited. I was ushered back to a room and poked and prodded for blood tests and throat cultures. I laid down on the bed in the room to wait for the results. I knew I must be sick. Who actually lays down on those beds? I'll never forget the person who told me about the first tower or the look on his face. My doctor walked back into the room, probably as pale as I was, and just looked at me. For a split second, as bad as I felt and from the expression on his face, I thought he was going to tell me that I was dying. Finally, he announced, "You have Strep throat and a plane just flew into the World Trade Center!" I'm sure it was a combination of the fever and the totally unbelievable announcement, but I thought I was hallucinating. I stared at him until he finally broke the silence, "Did you hear me?" I could only squeak out one word, "What?" "An airplane just crashed into one of the towers of the World Trade Center in New York City. They think it may have been on purpose! Follow me!" The next few minutes were as surreal as any that I had ever experienced or have experienced since then. I followed him into the staff lounge of the office where doctors, nurses, patients and other office staff were all huddled around a tiny television, silent and gawking. We all stood, mesmerized and shocked, watching the footage play over and over again.
The next few hours are a blur, partly because of the shock from the view on TV and partly because of the pain medication I was prescribed. The fog of the fever didn't help to make anything any clearer either. I remember my first call as I left the doctor's office. I called my mother. I wanted to know that she was okay. It's strange, I know. We live in South Carolina and I just needed to hear her voice to make sure she was okay because terrorists had attacked in New York. I believe that feeling spread like a virus throughout the country. It didn't matter where our loved ones were, we just wanted to hear their voices. We wanted solid proof of their safety. There was one unified emotion that all Americas felt, no matter where we were; fear. Not since Pearl Harbor had there been an attack on American soil. What was the world coming to? For some, the thought that the world was ending rushed to the forethought of our minds.
Strangely, in those next days and then weeks, a reaction occurred that the terrorist group had not expected. They had intended to divide and then conquer us. The opposite happened. Americas put aside race, religion, and region. We become "one nation, under God" for the first time in a very long time. When a survivor was found and rescued from the rubble, we all rejoiced. When a body was pulled from the mangled mess that once was a strong tower, we all wept. There was no "red and yellow, black and white" as the song from our childhood says. We were all "precious in His sight". Amazingly, family differences didn't seem to matter as much anymore. Once petty arguments faded and were replaced with feelings of familiarity and forgiveness that hadn't seemed possible as late as September 10th. People joined hands and hearts in prayer. Churches filled to overflowing in a return to God as an attempt to find some sense or meaning in the aftermath. I don't feel that I'm exaggerating to say that all of America held its breath as we waited to see what would happen next. Would another attack come?
What did happen was amazing. People took vacation days from work to volunteer at Ground Zero, hoping to make a difference. Wallets that were once squeezed tight were stretched to make donations for basic human needs for those directly affected by the attacks. People who had never considered themselves animal lovers were sending their hard earned money to be used to purchase booties for the rescue dogs' feet so that they wouldn't burn their paws as they searched and sniffed for human remains in an attempt to bring some form of closure to the victims' families. Political differences were set aside. We banded together as one in an effort to be one nation in our reaction for this offense. America flags were once again proudly displayed on houses and flew mightily against blue skies. We put aside religious differences and joined together as one voice in prayers for strength for the heroic rescue personnel and comfort for the family members who waited, holding their breath, for some word, hoping that it would be good news.
Since that day, we have cleared the rubble, buried the dead, mourned the lost, and moved on. We have recovered. We are scarred from the experience, but not destroyed. We are wounded but not defeated. We are sad but not slain. So on this anniversary, we remember and shed tears but we will never, ever forget!
