Where were you when…

…the terrorists attacked the US on 9/11?

This is a question that I have heard posed many times over the years, though so far no one has ever asked me where I was on that awful morning.  Part of me is glad that no one has ever asked, because my story sounds insignificant when compared to the stories of others.  I was a young child, so maybe people think that I wouldn’t remember; but I do.

I was seven years old.  I was lying on the living room floor, though I have no idea why – I think I was listening to the radio or watching a movie.  I remember the phone ringing, and my mom answering.  It was my grandma, telling my mom to turn on the radio and listen to the news reports (though I didn’t know that at the time, I just knew that it was grandma on the line).  My mom went over and turned on the radio to the news station, where we heard the news reports.  My mom said later that she thought that this was a tragic accident.  While they were talking the second plane hit, and my grandma was giving my mom a moment-by-moment description of what she was watching on TV.  I think that’s when the possibility of something worse than an accident entered their minds.

I remember my mom explaining the situation to me in simple terms so that I could understand.  At the time I didn’t fully comprehend the situation.  I knew that plane crashes were bad, and planes crashing into buildings was even worse.  But I didn’t understand the concept of a “terrorist.”

Part of me wishes that I could go back to being that innocent.  But the other part of me is glad that I now know the reality of our situation, so that I may be a light in the darkness.

 

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