THAT Tuesday morning

This morning was so much like that Tuesday morning. You know, THAT Tuesday morning 11 years ago when “the world stopped turning.” Like you, I can remember it like yesterday. Isn’t it funny how our minds grasp the moment during a tragedy? My wife and I were getting ready for work.  Our one-year old son was fussy and we were squabbling trying to get us and him ready.  I don’t know what it’s like at your house in the morning, but it’s probably much like ours — it’s a bloody synchronized ballet of chaos. We had a little white kitchen television on, tuned to Good Morning America (it could have been the Today Show though).  They broke in how a small plane had apparently collided with the World Trade Center.  Pictures showed a gaping hole and black smoke belching out into the crystal-clear blue sky.

I knew it wasn’t an accident. How could it be? The last time a plane collided into a New York skyscraper was when a B-25 Mitchell bomber collided with the Empire State Building — and that was in the fog.

My wife and I were fussing about something but realized we needed to stop. World events eclipsed our tiny drama.

And then the second plane slammed into the second tower.  The world hasn’t been the same since.

My son is 12 now. He has been joined by two brothers. All three of them don’t remember a pre-9/11 world. They never saw the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center jutting into the sky.  They don’t know what flying was like pre-TSA.  They’ve been subjected to more security. Their rights have eroded.  They didn’t quite understand the joy we felt when we found out Osama Bin Laden met a fearful death at the hands of Navy SEALS.  9/11 is just a moment in history to them. It’s not a scar on their hearts.

That’s not a totally bad thing.

As I relive the horrible images I saw 11 years ago, I’ll mourn the past. But I’ll also grasp onto the promise of a bright future.  I’ll dig out my “United We Stand” poster and salute the flag. I’ll thank a first responder.  And I’ll pray my sons never have to see our country attacked again like we did THAT Tuesday morning.

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7 Responses to THAT Tuesday morning

  1. Susan says:

    Amen, and amen….

  2. Carol says:

    Beautifully written. Thank you.

  3. Christine Roberts aka diamondbertie says:

    I live in the UK but I shall never forget 9/11/01 I knew then that we had all lost our innocence, I stopped worrying about the future after that because I knew nearly 3000 people lost their future in the blink of an eye. I always enjoyed life but now I treat each day like a precious gift. I try to be nicer.

  4. parrotmom says:

    Ms Christine I enjoyed your comment about treating each day like a precious gift. Thanks Marshall for sharing your encounter that day and how it has changed our futures, but more so the future if our young.

  5. Clucky says:

    Marshall, I was thinking along the same vein this morning. My daughter was about to turn 2. I had just been released from the hospital two days prior following “female surgery (WHY is it called that??). Anyway, baby girl at her Mamaw’s house next door because I wasn’t supposed to pick up that 24# bag of sugar for a couple of weeks. My sons were ten, and getting used to their new teachers. My husband (the micro-omgImScaredToBeAlone Marriage to a police officer) had left for work, and the ex (a paramedic) was fishing with a high school buddy at Ross Barnett.
    The rest is history, of course. I thought back through my life-the good and the bad-realizing that I had the same pit in my stomach, sucker-punched feeling watching those towers burn that I had experienced upon losing my parents, the end of my first marriage, and some other really bad stuff. The only other big stories I can recall is the Challenger explosion. The initial Desert Storm campaign began when I was HUGELY pregnant with my twins, and I remember watching the “Shock and Awe” news
    And rubbing my belly with tears running down my face.
    My sons remember 9/11, but it’s probably the same as my memory of the attempted assassination of Ronald Reagan: old enough to know it was a HUGE deal, but still too young to grasp the severity of the situation. The loss of my mother hits all of us very hard still today. As I crossed my lawn to hers 11 years ago, she was coming out the front door with M. Mama was crying too. What were we supposed to do? Get the kids?
    Mom likened it to the Kennedy assassination, and before that, the end of WW2. I know that feeling now that she spoke of; that fear of something so much bigger than our family and our town. This is on such a huge scale, and there is nothing “we” could do about it but pray, pray and pray some more.
    A world with terror is all too familiar to our kids now. We never worried about going to school in fear of being shot by the emo kid who snaps after being bullied for years; movie theaters have been a way to escape for many-but again, a fool with sick mind and a loaded gun have nudged even my kids (of their own accord) to redbox a movie and watch it in the comfort and hopefully, security, of home. I can only pray (again) that my children never experience that feeling of loss and helplessness that being attacked in the United States.
    God Bless America

  6. Marica says:

    Marshall– I wonder if there is a transcript of your interview with the Major General available? Great interview, by the way! What he had to say near the end– about winning the war on terror– would make a good read, especially in light of today’s events in Cairo.

    If there is, could you direct us to it? Many thanks!

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