May We Never Forget

It was a normal Tuesday; I was eating breakfast, watching Fox News and getting ready for the day.  We were living in Colorado, at the US Air Force Academy, so it was just before 7 AM our time.  My husband had left for work; my daughter was eating her breakfast, getting ready to start her school work.  Just before “Fox and Friends” finished for the day they announced that a plane had crashed into one of the towers at The World Trade Center.  I called my daughter in to watch the historic event, not knowing how tremendously historic it would be.  It was a clear September morning in New York City and it didn’t seem possible that a plane would mistakenly crash into such a large landmark.  Besides, I knew too much. 

My husband’s previous job as an Air Force officer had been with the Air Intelligence Agency, and as you can imagine it was on the top secret level.  It wasn’t that he told me things, it just took a little bit of observation, keeping your eyes and ears open, to figure out what kinds of things warrant late night or early morning phone calls.  What events make it necessary for out of country TDY’s (Temporary Duty).  I saw the building smoking, heard the report, and phoned my husband to tell him what had happened.

My daughter and I sat captivated by what we were seeing on the television.  We listened to the news commentator, John Scott, politely arguing with an “expert” concerning whether this was terrorists or an accident.  The supposed “expert” was adamant that it was merely an accident and we should not be jumping to conclusions.   Then we saw another plane.  I thought it was a “tanker” plane bringing water to drop on the fire.  I said to my daughter, “Oh look they’re bringing in a tank…” the plane hit the second tower right before our eyes! 

With tears in my eyes and fear in my throat I called my husband a second time.  I told him what had happened, we knew it wasn’t an accident, and he determined to find a television and to let everyone in his department know.  There were scores of cadets that were about to find out their lives had changed.  Many of them would react with tears but most with great resolve.

It was happening, there was nothing we could do about it, and it was frightening.  I come from a military family and we were in the military at the time, I knew that our lives had changed in that instant, and would never be the same again.  It wasn’t long before the report came that the Pentagon had been hit by a plane causing severe damage.  With fear in her voice my daughter said. “They’re going to kill us all!”  We heard about Flight 93 on its way to no one knew where, then that it had crashed.

I watched devastated as people began to jump to their deaths from the twin towers.  How desperate they must have been, how scared… I cried.  Before 9 AM our time both towers had crumpled to the ground.  All I could do was pray.

Life did change for us and for every American. Some changes were hard and still affect us; some were good and long overdue.   We united together in a way I had not seen in my lifetime.  We were ready to fight for our freedom and for that of others.  And we realized that we still had heroes.

There are few heroes that I would like to remember.  Of course all of the first responders that threw caution to the wind that day, September 11, 2001, and did their job with honor.  There were the passengers on flight 93 that stood between us and the terrorists.   Abe Zelmanowitz, who could have saved himself and left the World Trade Center, but chose to stay behind with his quadriplegic best friend  Ed Beyea, so he wouldn’t have to die alone.

My precious husband and all of the other military men and women who stood firm and were not only ready to go if called, but were anxious to go and went.  SPC Geoffery A. Whitsitt who wasn’t old enough to sign up for the fight on September 11, 2001, but joined as soon as he could, and would eventually pay the ultimate price of his life for our freedom.  And there was my Daddy, who had served in Korea and Vietnam, turned 71 the day after the horrible attack, and said, “I want to sign up and go get ‘um”, and he meant it!

May we never forget what happened that horrific day, may we not become too complacent.  I don’t want to forget the heroes of that day and the days that followed.  And I never want to take for granted the loving, gracious, sovereign hand of God.