remembering

Part of today will be moments of somberness and extreme sobriety.
We will be told to remember and never to forget.
Hold this tension of not wanting to Toby Keith and put a boot in the butt of everybody, part of me wants to remember 9/11 as it was a day the world changed, and part of me wants to forget because it hurt.

I recall when the first plane hit the tower. I was watching CNBC and they broke to World Trade Center and there it was smoking. I thought to myself, "Must have been an oblivious Cesna or something that ran into the tower." I turned off the TV and got my son ready to go to Ms. Becky's house and was listening to Sports Talk Radio and the weather guy was on for his segment and he told Jason Whitlock, "Sort of just matter of factly in shock, another plane hit the tower." I quickly went back to the TV to see what had happened and the video showed a jetliner crashing into the tower. My eyes widened and I felt the cool air on my dry eyes then I squinted. That was no accident, it was on purpose.

I drove my son to Ms. Becky's listening to the radio. The news guys and gals were working with facts and I could tell they were shook up. I got to Ms. Becky's and I asked her, "You heard what happened?" She said some other mothers were talking about it when they came in. I let Samuel go and she picked him up and held him pretty close.

I went to work at the church and I had the radio on, tuned into the internet, and the TV with no cable was giving me some fuzzy pictures. I remember hearing about Washington DC and I was scouring the internet for anything about the Flight 93. It was unconfirmed at the time and I was told it was near Pittsburgh, but there was a crash.

I called Amy to ask about her sister who was flying out that day of LaGuardia. She got word back that she was alright. Then I had this feeling that every city was going to be hit. The Sears Tower, the Arch in St. Louis, L.A.. All day planes were going to be flying into buildings. I felt that vunerable.

I heard on the radio as Peter Jennings shared with us all that first tower had fell and I could hear the grief in his voice. I turned the TV on and watched the replay of the fall and waited for the next one to fall. I had hoped and prayed that somehow a miracle would happen and the second one would stay up. It did not and when it fell, I turned off the TV and sat in my office for a few moments and went home to watch the TV on cable. There was not going to be any work done.

My wife was working at home and I talked with her. I asked if anybody was at the office. About 2:00 PM, I quit watching, all plane flights had been cancelled there was no more danger. The towers were down, the Pentagon was under control. I went for a run and it was a beautiful fall day in Kansas City. I ran and it was the most normal thing I could do. To see that life was still continuing.

I was supposed to have an interview with a church that night. I called the search committee chair and asked him, "Do you want to do this interview tonight?"
He responded, "I don't see why not?"
It was the worst interview ever. There was no energy on my side of the phone and none on theirs. We all were thinking of something else.

I picked up my son that afternoon and there was a line of 30 to 40 cars at the cash station blocking the road. There was this tremendous fear that we would be out of gasoline. I just said, "What idiots." That was the irrationality of the day.

I recall that sports talk radio went off the air for three days. The world stopped on Wednesday and normalcy started returning Thursday and Friday. I just remember afterwards, conversations being about that day, dinner parties and such. That weekend, we had a company dinner and some of the folks were not there because they were still not able to leave where they were at.

I recall wanting to join the State Department to help out. I thought about the Army, but I had a son. I just recall that I felt more American. I could not find out how do that without being reactionary.

To be honest these reflections are not that spectacular, but just an ordinary person's remembrances.

Fearless Joy,
Guido