I have read several people's accounts today of their memories from the infamous terrorists attacks on September 11. I wanted to share mine as well. In some ways I want to completely forget about that day and what happened. I wish it were a bad dream that slowly ebbed from my thoughts once I realized that I had awakened. At the same time, I never can nor should I forget what happened on that day and how it affected the lives of millions, not just in my homeland but around the entire globe. My story is not much different from most people in that I am an ordinary person who was going about my normal day's business. I never could have seen it coming and yet, if I had what difference could I have made?
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Tuesday, September 11, 2001
Just a few short weeks before, I had begun my college studies at a nearby community college. I was freshman: young, naive, curious, and unsure. That day started just like any other day had for the past several weeks. I packed up my books and lunch, said goodbye to my mom and younger siblings and headed out on my own for another day of lectures, vocal practice, studying and...learning.
Since it was a Tuesday, I had four classes each lasting about 1 1/2 to 2 hours long. Ironically, my first class of the day was General Psychology. It began at 9:30 am CST and I was headed toward the 800 building for class between 9:15 and 9:30 am. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until I stepped inside. As I was walking down the hallway I saw a couple of men, instructors or coaches I think, watching television in an open office. What I saw on the screen stunned me. A large jet had just crashed straight into one of the twin towers in New York City. I didn't think much of it at first, figuring it was a freak accident. As I kept watching I saw a second plane hit the tower beside it. A gigantic fireball bursts from the crater on impact. Now, this was no accident. What were the odds of two separate planes crashing into two nearby but separate buildings within moments from each other? My mind was not comprehending what I saw. It seemed to be something from an action horror film, not something that occurred in real life. Puzzled by the mystifying sight, I shuffled off to class. As I took my seat at a desk in the front row, I could hear students whispering around me. They appeared stunned. The instructor entered the room a few minutes later and began to explain what he had heard of the morning's events. Slowly pieces were coming together. The towers were hit deliberately. Many people had been killed. No one was aware of who was behind the act. The President had been whisked off to some remote, unknown location.
I was in shock. It just didn't seem possible. Questions began to tumble through my mind just as the structure of the towers had tumbled down onto the streets of New York below. Who would want to do this to the people of the United States? How could it happen here of all places in the world?
Back in the classroom, the psychology instructor gave the opportunity for students to voice their thoughts, ask questions or leave class. There was not much to be said. None of us knew enough to ask intelligent questions and nobody seemed to have coherent answers. Class was dismissed early after about 10-15 minutes. "Okay, now what?" I thought. My next class was not until 11:00 and I didn't have much to do in the meantime. I began wandering around campus with my book bag slung over my shoulder. I remembered that I had a cell phone with me. I called my mom to see if she was aware of what had occurred and if she knew any further details. She had already been informed by someone and had the TV tuned into the local network, watching intently. In addition to the planes hitting the twin towers she told me of the Pentagon being targeted and a fourth plane going down unexpectedly out in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania. It was just too bizarre for words. First, two planes and now possibly four? I asked if she was all right and if she had heard from my dad. She said he was safe at work and he had called earlier to inform her of the news.
That was somewhat of a relief to me. However, it suddenly occurred to me that if planes had been used as giant missiles in at least three distance locations, why couldn't it occur here too? I warily began to watch the sky for any nearby planes headed in our direction. With our region being called the "Air-capital of the World" there were plenty of planes streaking across the skies overhead. I was almost fully expecting one to come crashing down at any moment.
With my uncertainty and dread, I headed toward the Fine Arts building to see what was going on there. My English Comp. I class was not for at least another hour and it didn't seem right to stay outside in the open.
Inside, I found small groups of students talking to each other in low whispers. There was a very somber mood among the group. Students who were usually running recklessly through the hallways or yelling across the room at friends were now standing quietly and timidly along the corridors. There was not much activity to speak of. I learned from a fellow vocal student that there would be an impromptu choir performance in the auditorium during our regularly scheduled choir practice. We had been learning part of the Latin Mass written by several different composers. That day, we would sing the
Kyrie along with several patriotic numbers as a remembrance to the victims of the towers collapse. At that time, no one knew the tragedy had been perpetrated by radical Muslim terrorists. It seemed to be an incredible freak accident of two jet airliners.
How appropriate, yet ironic to be singing the phrase repeatedly in Latin:
Kyrie eleison; Christe eleison. "Lord, have mercy; Christ, have mercy." The service was very moving and many joined the choir in the auditorium as we sang "God Bless America" and other well-known patriotic favorites. Several of the students were crying softly at the close of the memorial service. Some of the instructors gathered nearby were silently wiping away tears as well.
Later that morning in English class, the mood and procedure was much the same. Our instructor gave a few remarks about the day's events, offered for others to voice their thoughts, and then dismissed us early from class. No one hung around long.
As I left the classroom and began pondering what I should be doing or where I should go, the familiar, tender words of Scripture came loudly to my mind. A friend had put these very words to music just a few short weeks before.
Who will separate us from the love of Christ?
Shall tribulation, persecution, or distress?
Shall famine or nakedness or peril or sword?
Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.
Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?
For I am persuaded, that neither death, no life, nor angels,
Nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,
Nor height nor depth, nor any other creature
Shall be able to separate us from the love of God.
For I am persuaded, that neither death nor life
Shall separate us from the love of God.
Romans 8:35, 37-38
Now, the words were as fresh and real as if they had been written for today's events.
If not even death itself could separate me from God's love, how could the brutal act of a terrorist let alone any earthly tragedy that could befall me separate me from the incredible love of Christ? Suddenly, with renewed hope and confidence I walked across the small college campus. I no longer felt afraid because I knew God was with me and He would watch over me. My soul was eternally secure in His unfailing, unquenchable love. What a precious promise from the Lord!
September 11 was a wake-up call to me. It woke me up to the fact that there is nowhere truly safe in this world. I awoke to the realization that God must be my strong tower and hiding place. No tall tower in New York City or hiding place in Kansas could protect me from the dangers and evils of the world. Only God's grace and mercy held me each day in His everlasting arms. He was my refuge and strength, a very present help in times of trouble. I praise Him for His Holy Word that comforted me and strengthened me during those grim, questioning days. And now, today, September 11, 2008 He is as real and present with me as He was those six years ago while I was a young student on a college campus in Kansas.
He is ever ready and willing to hear the cry of any who would call on Him for salvation. Nothing takes Him by surprise or escapes His notice. Praise Him for His unchanging nature, for
His mercy endureth forever.
Labels: prayers, random, remembrance, Scripture
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