Where Were You on That September Morn?

On 9/11/01, I was the Director of Sports Medicine at Missouri Baptist University in St. Louis. As I was pulling out of my driveway on the way to work, the radio DJ interrupted the music to say that a plane had just hit one of the world trade center buildings. About 30 minutes later, just as I was crossing the Missouri river bridge into St. Louis county, all the music stopped as they announced the impact of the second plane. No one had to be told at that point what was going on. I hurried in to the office to find a group of students and other science faculty crowded around a TV set with the rabbit ears up (you could still get broadcast TV back in those days). In what we later decided was the best use of our time, the faculty members and students sat together and talked about what it meant. Classes were cancelled; not officially, but by about noon much of the campus had crowded into the science building to be a part of our group instead of going to class. It was a great time of fellowship, somber but still bonding, between the faculty and the students, and I won't forget it. (Yes, the Provost forgave us.) The weight of what happened did not hit me for a couple days. 9/11 was on a Tuesday, and on that Saturday morning, I was on my riding mower mowing my 3 acre lot, and I glanced up at the sky. There was nothing there. It finally hit me how big a deal this was, and how much everything had changed. I had to stop the mower and have a little cry. This was one of only about three times I've cried as an adult. It was an unusual moment, to say the least. I've gotten cynical since then about stuff; it is good to stop and remember and lose the cynicism. Some things are bigger than our petty gripes.

When Writing Seems Futile

I've been digesting quite a few of the bloggers' takes on the 10-year anniversary of the 9-11 attacks.  I've tried to think of something wise or useful to add to the discussion, but remembering back to what I was thinking on that day, I really don't think I have anything to say that would raise the bar for anybody.  It seems futile to try to make sense of the events even ten years later, at least in a communicable way that people can understand and appreciate.

If I can think of something beneficial to add, I'll post it Sunday.  If you don't see anything here, I couldn't.

Remembering 9/11 With My Kids

My 6th-grade daughter was tasked by a teacher with watching a History Channel special this weekend on the 9/11 attacks. (Thanks to DVR...we had four baseball games today!)

It was a very interesting and well-done show, focusing more on personal relationships between a handful of survivors, but building the story around their day.  I was worried about the appropriateness of the content for an 11-year-old, but there were no problems other than the expected intensity of the fear during the time before the towers fell.

It sure did bring back memories.  Those are not far from the surface, but the images bring them back all the stronger.  I was in my car on the way to work at Missouri Baptist University in St. Louis when I heard a DJ come on and say a plane had hit the WTC.  It didn't seem like a big deal, and they went right back to music.  Then, about 15 minutes later, the second plane hit.  It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on.  I remember spending much of the day with TVs in the classrooms, watching the coverage with the students.  It was one of those never-forget mornings.

The most intense time for me came four days later.  I vividly remember going out early Saturday morning and getting on my lawn tractor to mow my 3-acre lawn.  I was busily mowing away, thinking about the situation, when for some reason I noticed the sky.  I had to stop the tractor.  There were always a dozen or more contrails in the bright Missouri sky, but on that day, there were none.  That moment the reality of what had happened hit me.  I literally turned off the engine of my tractor and had a good cry.  It was both weird and fulfilling at the same time.  But one thing I knew, the world I'd been living in was never going to be the same.  I had all four kids then, and Ryan, my youngest, was just 18 months old.  It made me sad thinking about the innocence they lost that day without really knowing it.

Now, the special on TV made for a great 'teaching moment'.  I was happy to be able to discuss some of the important things about the attacks and the world we live in with the kids.  I'm sure we'll watch it again (since it is on DVR) and there will be more questions to answer.  These questions are a privilege...after all, when they say, 'We will never forget', how do you suppose we'll make that happen if we don't talk about it with our kids?  Especially in this day, when our own president goes around apologizing for our country, it is all the more important to make sure our kids know the ramifications of what 9/11 means, and how they'll need to deal with those ramifications as they grow up.

I hope millions of kids had a good discussion today with their parents and learned a little something about freedom, good and evil, and family.