Remembering 9/11, Part 2: My Eyes Were Opened

I was no where near New York on September 11th, 2001.  In fact, I was on the complete opposite side of the U.S. when it happened.  9/11 affects knew no bounds though, and it changed everything.

I was 10 years old at the time and I remember waking that morning and going into my mother's room.  Like any other school day morning, it started off fairly early, around 6-6:30 am.  It was common for my mother to have the news on in her room, most often playing Good Morning America.  This morning was different however.  As I entered,  I could feel tension in the atmosphere, the mood back dropped with stress and disbelief.  As I intently listened, it didn't take long to learn that a commercial sized plane had hit one of the World Trade Center towers in New York City. 

New York was somewhere I have always dreamed of going.  During my elementary years, I couldn't pronounce certain phonetics and many people asked me if I was from New York because of it.  Sometimes I liked to entertain the thought, but I'd gladly inform them I was from San Francisco eventually.  My parents had talked about a trip there a few years before but with the then recent birth of my sisters, those plans were no longer realistic.  I would like to go.  Sadly, one of the highlights of my future trip will be to visit where the Towers once stood and see what is replacing them.

  

I recall the news announcers talking very rapidly.  No exact remarks are remembered but the gasps and horror in their voice and facial expressions remain clear as we all watched the second plane strike the other tower.  Our fears were confirmed.  This was no accident.  America was being attacked, and I had never known fear quite like I had 
now.

Sure, I had feared things.  I remember cutting my head open on a glass table and breaking my finger after falling off my bike.  For that time of my life, those were my little, innocent fears.  Fearing that the land I lived in would come under attack wasn't something that had crossed my mind.  I wasn't concerned with my world surroundings.  Granted, I was only 10 but even at that age in some countries, the realization of how fragile mortality is very real to them.  It wasn't to me, especially since death was not an event I was exposed to.  I had watched the news coverage of the bombing of the USS Cole in the gulf of Aden a year prior while at school.  This had sparked some interest but it did not last.

I was aware of some of the history of my country.  Between grades 4-5, I did reports on the U.S. President's John F. Kennedy and Dwight D. Eisenhower.  I did research on the California missions in the 4th grade and in 5th grade, I studied Tennessee for the state project assignment.  I was just getting into my love for history as I decided to undertake a rather difficult historical fiction book series named "Prelude to Glory".  As a whole though, history was something that I read about, not something that was being created in my own time.  All of that changed on that early September morning; my eyes were opened to the world.

My dad was working as a paramedic in San Francisco during this time.  On the morning of September 11th he was finishing up a 24 hr. shift.  While watching the news coverage of New York, they shifted their focus for a couple moments as they presented a local venue just 45 minutes from home.  Up displayed on the screen was San Francisco.  

They began picking out possible targets that the terrorists might aim for next, along with a projected fatality count.  I had seen firefighters, paramedics, policeman, and all other sort of emergency personnel enter into those towers and I watched both of those towers fall; I knew many were still in those towers that had not made it out alive.  My father is one that will not back down from the call to serve.  I knew that if such an event did happen in San Francisco, my dad would be there, and that scared both Mom and I.  Reaching him on the phone, she cried as she begged for him to come home, to just come home and be safe with our family.  He was shortly able to do so.  Thankfully, The City by the Bay was left untouched.  My life wasn't though.

My understanding of Jesus Christ, His saving power and grace grew so much as I viewed the final resting place of  so many of God's children. Whether it was in New York, Pennsylvania, or Washington D.C., I knew that there had to be more to this life then just death and tragedy.  There is something more that we are to attain then just living life; we are to prepare ourselves to meet God.  Many souls met God that fateful day but I also know that everything has its place and purpose.  No, I do not know why 9/11 happened. We might say, "Surely, there must have been another way.  Whatever we were to learn, whatever we needed, couldn't it have been done some other way?". 

You know, Jesus Christ asked the same question too as He took upon our sins in the Garden of Gethsemane.  Falling to his knees and praying to His Father in Heaven, he asked, "saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me".  Knowing that this was the only way for everyone to receive healing, Christ then responds, "nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt" (Matthew 26:39).  God's will was done and from it, we can experience life after death because Jesus Christ broke the bands of sin and death.  I am so very grateful for His sacrifice and Atonement.  Due to His great love, I know what happens to the "state of the soul between death and the resurrection . . . [I know that] the spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body, yea, the spirits of all men, whether they be good or evil, are taken home to that God who gave them life." (Alma 40:11)  

That is true and it has given such great comfort to me in the fact that we can live with God again.  That the tales of endless peace, happiness, and joy are not vain imaginations, but an actual, real thing that comes to all those that have a hope and faith in Christ.  All shall know God one day because we are all His children, and, like a loving Father, He will not leave us comfortless nor without aide. 

The chorus of the song, "Where Were You", written by Alan Jackson, was not included in my last post. My most favorite part is the last line as it highlights the greatest thing that we have been given.  

"I'm just a singer of simple songs
I'm not a real political man
I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell
you the difference in Iraq and Iran
But I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young
Faith, hope and love are some good things He gave us
And the greatest is love"

I find that line to be the most inspiring thing that I had gotten out of living during the time that 9/11 occurred.  Now being a decade since that day, I know that from it I learned how we all need to love each other more, to reach out and help more.  "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." (John 3:16).  The greatest thing God has given us is His love.