9/11

When I was looking at my calendar several times during the week, to make sure I remembered all of the appointments and meetings for my children's various needs and problems, I kept eyeing today, September 11th, and my heart would sink for a moment. I had forgotten what the date was today until I was driving Sadie to preschool. We passed a flower shop, and a man was standing on the sidewalk, waving red roses around. I glanced at the sign next to him that said, "Free roses for family of 9/11 victims." Ohhhhh. Today is the eleventh.

I feel badly for Ben's sister, whose birthday is today - a hard day to have your birthday. I remember my friend, Dawni's, daughter was born on 9/11, and she was stuck in the hospital for three days, and the only thing on TV was 9/11 coverage, of course, and she said she was soooo depressed. So I feel bad for Dawni's daughter, too.

I quite vividly remember hearing about the attacks, obviously. Like how our parents remember where they were when they heard Kennedy died. Or where anyone was when the Challenger exploded. On the morning of 9/11, I was setting up for my school day. My department head stuck her head in my door and said, "Karlenn, did you see the news this morning?" Uh, no. It was all I could do to get up, get ready, and drive 45 minutes to my job. She said, "There was a tragic accident - an airplane accidentally flew into one of the World Trade Towers." Hmmm, I thought. That really sucks. My goodness.

A few minutes later, I went to the school library to grab some colored butcher paper, and when I walked in, all the teachers were standing, motionless, watching the TV. That same department head turned around to look at me, and said in a whisper, "It wasn't an accident. It was terrorists. They flew into the other tower."

None of us knew what to do. I was going to have my kids work on grammar worksheets anyway, so I kept the TV on all day and told them that their homework was still due tomorrow, and they could choose to do it in class while they watched, or they could just watch. Most kids chose to just watch. It was one of the quietest days that I remember from my teaching experience. They kept asking me who did this, who did this, and I said, "I don't know... maybe Saddam Hussein??" I'm usually terribly unversed in world politics and warfare, and this is a painful example of that. I had no, no, no idea.

Lots of kids (mainly 8th grade boys) would make the proclamation: "Let's go over to Iraq and nuke 'em!!!" (This was when everyone had made the assumption that it was Iraq that did this.) I had to keep reminding them that, if we did that, many innocent people would die. The kids didn't seem to care about that. Sigh. Boys will be boys.

A week later, I started a poetry unit, and I had the kids write poems about their initial feelings that day. It was a good exercise. I still have the poem I wrote (it's always good to give an example to these kids when you assign something creative like this) somewhere around here...

I'll never forget something that happened a couple of months later - Ben and I were heading to that big place where the Jazz plays basketball to watch a game, and there was a plane flying in to the airport, and my brain played a crazy trick on me - I swore up and down that it was headed to the KSL building. It got closer and closer, and I started screaming and tugging on Ben's coat. He was like, "What, Kar, what?" And then I blinked, and there was nothing there. No looming plane. It was so weird.

I got this forward in my e-mail box a few weeks ago, and I really liked it:

'MEET ME IN THE STAIRWELL'
You say you will never forget
where you were when you heard the news
On September 11, 2001.
Neither will I.
I was on the 110th floor
in a smoke-filled room
with a man who called his wife
to say 'Good-Bye.'
I held his fingers steady as he dialed. I
gave him the peace to say,
'Honey, I am not going to make it,
but it is OK..I am ready to go.'

I was with his wife when he called
as she fed breakfast to their children.
I held her up
as she tried to understand his words
and as she realized
he wasn't coming home that night.

I was in the stairwell of the 23rd floor
when a woman cried out to Me for help.
'Of course I will show you the way home.'

I was at the base of the building with the Priest
ministering to the injured and devastated souls.
I took him home to tend to his Flock in Heaven.

I was on all four of those planes,
in every seat, with every prayer.
I was with the crew as they were overtaken.

I was in Texas , Virginia ,
California , Michigan , Afghanistan ..
I was standing next to you
when you heard the terrible news.
Did you sense Me?

I want you to know that I saw every face.
I knew every name.
Some met Me for the first time on the 86th floor.
Some sought Me with their last breath.
I was there.

I did not place you in the Tower that day.
You may not know why, but I do.
Sept. 11, 2001, was not the end
of the journey for you.
But someday your journey will end.
And I will be there for you as well.
I will be in the stairwell
of your final moments.

-God

I like the part that says, "You may not know why, but I do." It's true that Heavenly Father has a plan, and there is a time when we will leave this life to be with Him again. And it's true that we go through trials (like those who lost loved ones in 9/11) for a specific reason - we may not know why at the time, but Heavenly Father knows all things, and we will eventually have the benefit of His sight. Someday.