I was in the kitchen making cookies. The phone rang. Drew answered. I heard the fuzz of the TV being switched on. When I saw the airplane tumble the building down, I didn't think it could be real. How could a little plane do something like that?
Mom came home. She cried and cried and called Daddy and told him to come back from work.
For the next few weeks we were glued to the blurry television set. Everything else stopped. Life stilled as we watch the towers fall again and again, as we listened to stories of survival, and saw the grief poured out for those who didn't survive.
I remember the names being read at the memorial service. Names of those who had been killed. Names liked the crosses at Normandy. Too many names.
We will not forget.
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I was sitting in the kitchen when Mrs. A called. I could tell by my mom's face that all was not well. From that moment on, I watched in horror and disbelief as the impossible unfolded. I watched in real time as the second tower was hit by another commandeered plane. I remember I ran to tell my mom, who was still on the phone. It was a Tuesday; I went to writing class. Stunned and confused, we turned to God in prayer.
ReplyDeleteI also recall being an LIT at AWANA when the one-year anniversary rolled around and the wounds were still fresh. Mrs. L and I couldn't believe an entire year had passed. Now eight more have come and gone since then. May these wounds never fully heal. May we never forget their pain. May we always remember.
I was in first grade, and my teacher cried the whole day. I don't think I really understood why, but I came home and my mom was crying and watching the TV. I don't know if I understood what happened then, but I do now.
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