9-11

(Warning- this could be considered part of my journaling, and is probably going to be boring to the rest of you.)




Do you remember where you were? I was reading someone else's 9-11 post this morning (blog stalking) and it made me think about that time.

I am not a very patriotic person on a day to day basis. I realize how lucky we are to live in this country, and am more and more grateful when I learn what living conditions are like in other places. And I don't mean third world countries either. I mean Canada. And Europe. I realize how much better we have it here than the rest of the world. But I am still much too selfish to ever send my husband or son off to war voluntarily, althoughI understand the necessity of the war in general.

I digress. I am remembering that morning. Rachael was 4, Kindyl had just turned 3, and Mitchell was crawling around the house. Wendell called me from work just after 8. He said, "Are you watching T.V? " My response:"Of course I am watching T.V. Sesame Street is on." "change the channel" "to what?" "Anything". And I saw the first tower go down. An airplane crashed into it.


Of course it had happened in New York. Which means it happened 3 hours earlier. SO they immediately showed the second tower go down. My response?


"What are the chances of THAT?"

I didn't get it. I was thinking some airplane had made a terrible mistake. And then ANOTHER one did! I couldn't believe it.

Did I think, terrorist attack? No! I lived in America. No one would dare attack America. My mind didn't even go there.

So Wendell had to explain it to me. It took a while for me to wrap my mind around it. So my mind was racing as I finished getting Rachael ready for pre school. I dropped her off a 1/2 hour late. Her teacher expected it. Everyone was late that day.

I remember driving home, thinking about the big building down town that Wendell was working in, looking toward the skies. I wanted him to come home. Was it logical to think that someone would fly into a random building in downtown Phoenix? No, but it didn't stop me from worrying.

I am a bit of a history buff, and will read just about anything historical. fiction, non fiction. I have read A LOT about WW2. SO I started thinking about rations. I pictured myself pushing the stroller to the grocery store in 115 degree heat, because we were on gas rations. I thought about stock piling things like sugar. I thought about getting a bike with a babyseat and a little trailer to ride Rachael to school. All of these selfish things went through my mind first.

As the days passed I remember driving on the freeway, counting all of the flags on the cars. They were everywhere. My favorite was the flag bandanna on the wild motorcyclist.

People were nicer to each other. We were all on the same side, facing a terrifying enemy. It was a whole different feeling, I think.

I remember when the fear started to rub off on the kids. It was the ONLY thing on T.V for weeks.(I let out a little whoop when Law and Order finally started playing again. Shallow? Maybe) We tried to shelter the kids, and not let them see any of it. But they could feel it. They could tell the adults were tense. They saw glimpses of the tower while trying to find PBS (the only network that continued normally)on T.V. Rachael had a hard time sleeping.

That is when I taught the girls about The Sound of Music. We taught them the song These Are a Few of My Favorite Things. Obvious choice, really. It is the most fitting song to sing when things are troubling us. They picked up on it quickly, and got a big kick out of it.




We have forgotten a lot in 7 years. There are no more flags on cars, or tough bikers. I don't worry about rationing anymore, or random anthrax attacks. We aren't as nice to strangers. We are a little complacent.

This morning I remember it like it was yesterday.