….I was actually home from Seminary “kid sitting” 4 kids while their parents were in Germany…Since the kids were at school that day I decided to work @ their family’s bakery in Fayetteville, GA . While listening to the radio in the kitchen, Vicki & I heard the news of the first plane hitting the first tower….we stood there wondering if it was a joke….then came the second….I began to wonder about my Dad who was working @ the Pentagon. I wanted to talk to him…when we heard that another plane had crashed- we knew this terror was real. This plane had hit the Pentagon- my head was spinning…
…almost immediately the kitchen phone rang-it was my Dad’s assistant. I’m not sure how she found me there, but thank goodness she did- my Dad was fine. His office at the Pentagon had been temporarily relocated because of remodeling. How ironic. The side that was hit was near where he would have been that day…
…So many others cannot say they faced a “close call”. So many families DID lose their Fathers, Mothers, Sisters, Brothers, Uncles, Aunts, Nieces, Nephews, CHILDREN…their Friends.
Our hearts should never be far from how we felt that day. We should remember how WE felt, but we should be ever aware of how others felt that day as well. The fear, the terror, the uncertainty, the shear horror of what they saw, smelled, touched, heard. What THEY lost.
We must also be aware that this is still not over. There are men & women who have voluntarily gone to fight, to stand where we cannot to battle an enemy that we cannot even see- home and abroad. Our broken hearts must also be grateful hearts-
We must Remember.