Remembering 9/11

The Facebook posts started a couple of days ago.  Where were you when . . . ?  Everyone has a story about where they were on 9/11, the day planes became instruments of terror, flown into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon.  Sharing stories is a cathartic experience, helping us deal with the emotions we still feel from that tragic day. 

There’s something about those life-changing moments that makes us remember exactly where we were and what we were doing.  We remember odd things like the clock on the wall, or the pattern of the desk’s wood.  When I was growing up, I remember my mother talking about where she was when she heard Kennedy had been shot.  She was in a college classroom in Indiana when bells started sounding across the campus.  The professor stopped speaking as everyone looked around, wondering.  Then someone came to the classroom door to tell them the news, and everyone sat in a shocked silence.

My grandparents’ generation remembers where they were when they heard that the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor, “the date that will live in infamy,” as Roosevelt said.   Now, along with December 7, 1941, September 11, 2001 is also a date that lives in infamy. 

Like everyone else, my memories of 9/11 are vivid.  At 9:00 that morning, I was leading a Disciple Bible Study at First Presbyterian Church in Cartersville.  A few minutes after 9:00, the church office manager came to the door to tell us that some sort of attack had happened at the World Trade Center.  We were concerned, but not overly concerned, thinking that this was another incident where some crazy person attempted something, but hopefully was apprehended without too much trouble.  Little did we realize that this was much more.  A few minutes later, there was another knock at the door, with the news that the first tower had fallen. 

Another Disciple class was meeting at the same time, and we gathered around computer screens in the church office, where we watched the devastating footage of jets flying into the twin towers. 

We quickly planned a service for worship and prayer, and we divided the church directory among members of those two Disciple classes, who went home and called everyone in the church to let them know about the service. 

Church members and folks from the community came together for that service, and although it was a time of great sadness, there also was emerging that powerful unity that marked the days and months following the attack.

For awhile, we were all Americans together, bonded by our common suffering, inspired by the bravery of the first responders and the heroism of the members of Flight 93.

Around the world, expressions of support poured out, and we were reminded that the hate of the few was far outnumbered by the goodwill of the rest of humanity. 

Today, the world has continued to change, as war and acts of violence have raged.  But on the anniversary of 9/11, my hope is that we will remember that there is more that unites us than divides us.  Whatever our race, religion, or nation, we all are part of the same human family.  Terrorism is defeated when acts of light shine, for the darkness cannot defeat the light.  So to mark 9/11, I hope that we all will do something to let the light shine.  Do something kind for someone else.  Say a prayer.  Help someone in need.  Show courtesy and respect.  Make a donation to your church or favorite charity.  Write a thank you note to your local firefighters and police officers.  Make 9/11 a day when we remember not just tragedy, but unity and love, so that the world will be a better place, and good will triumph over evil.