9/11

Every year on September 11th, I fall into a very somber mood as memories of that day in 2001 creep to the forefront of my thoughts.

The morning started like any other other school day.

Tuesday.

I got up early with LeRoy (5:30am) to fix him breakfast before he left for work in Jackson.

I woke the three older kids, fed them, and they walked through the field to Kennedy Elementary.

I headed down to the basement to do a pilates video, my usual morning workout.

Justin, only two and half, always woke up in time to wave his siblings off to school and then wandered down with me to either attempt pilates or to "play pool" on the pool table that took up 80% of the room.

This particular morning, Justin grabbed a pile of books from his room and brought them down with him. It was a little odd since he usually saved his books for nap time and used the morning to burn some of his energy but I never deny a kid a handful of books. He was already situated on the couch with a sippy cup and his books when I turned the TV on to start my VHS workout.

I was immediately caught up in the news as I saw a couple of buildings in New York that were both on fire. The replays of one tower already on fire and a plane - yes, a plane! - crashing into the second tower seemed unreal; something that would be in a movie or news from another country. There were also reports of a plane crashing into the Pentagon. I felt a growing pit in my stomach as I listened to announcers stating that this was no longer speculated as an accident, as the first plane crashing into a building was assumed. This was an attack.

paper floating
bodies falling
billowing flames
black smoke

7:59 - I sat cross-legged on the floor in confusion with the rest of the nation as a huge, rolling cloud engulfed the second tower that had been hit. The live feed had everyone guessing.

"we don't know what just happened"
"maybe something fell off the building"
"did the top fall off?"
"the entire building has just collapsed"
"the WHOLE building has collapsed!?!?"

It was gone, and left in it's place was a massive gray cloud of dust, smoke and debris. The news announcers didn't quite know what to say. There wasn't a script for this.

Justin sat quietly looking at his books.

President Bush sat in an elementary school classroom to read to kids on live television. A guard interrupted the reading to whisper into the President's ear. A few minutes later the President announced from that same school, in front of teachers, children and the nation, that our country was under a terrorist attack.

LeRoy called from Jackson to see if I had heard the news. He offered to come home but what was there to do in Idaho but sit glued to the horrific events unfolding and being replayed over and over again?

I sucked in my breath and simultaneously mumbled, "no, no, no" as I watched the other burning building collapse and the news announcers literally fall into silence. Tears of reality and acceptance replaced disbelief. Even the stoic new announcers were getting choked up.

Justin climbed into my lap and put his hand on my cheek. "Otay mommy?"

I couldn't respond through the choking sob I was holding in. I could only hug him. I wished for his innocence. I believe he felt more that day than I've ever given him credit for. I kept thinking I should turn it off but that felt like abandonment of those suffering the actual events. Justin stayed on my lap for nearly three hours; his closeness offering what little comfort I felt that morning.

We were still sitting there when Derek (5) got home from kindergarten.
Justin informed him, "Mommy sad."
More innocence soaked up in confusion.

a hijacked plane diverted by heroes
death toll estimates reaching astronomical numbers
all US airspace completely grounded, not one commercial or private plane in the sky
F-15's guarding New York City
speculation
terror

When Levi (9) and Erika (7) got home from school I found that they had a very vague picture of what had happened. They had watched the president's announcement at school. I filled in the basic details.

Levi would be very affected by that day. He was solemn and emotional. I witnessed an incredible degree of empathy grow in him as he learned over the following weeks of what had taken place and how it was affecting other people. I saw him tear up in emotion at updated stories of survivors, the lost, and the heroes. I watched him build, glue together and hang on his wall a puzzle of the towers with the US flag in the background.

The days and weeks to follow brought the death toll down significantly but also left a staggering number of people missing and reported dead. Phone calls from both inside the towers before they collapsed, and Flight 93 before it crashed, brought the reality of real people living and dying through these horrible events.

Heroes were found in unlikely places and in the most dire of circumstances.

Church services and prayer from all denominations were at all all time high nation wide.

The nation came together in mourning.

Devastation created common ground.

Travel would never be the same again.

The clean up in New York took years.

There were declarations of war.

The following years did indeed bring war.

I had never quite understood when my grandparents would talk about how they knew exactly where they were, what they were wearing and who they were with when Pearl Harbor was bombed. My parents remembered the exact same things (where, what and who) about the day President Kennedy was shot. I thought, well sure, it was in the news and was big but it didn't directly affect your life much.

Now I understand.

Each year as videos are replayed, flags are lowered and names are read, I remember.

I remember deep anguish for the suffering of others.

I remember my peaceful little boy and his comforting chubby hand resting on my cheek as he spent hours by my side, offering what the pure innocence of childhood offers. . . peace in the moment and hope for a better future.