Has it really been ten years? Ask anyone who was alive then and they can probably tell you where they were and what they were doing when the towers fell. You don't even have to say; What towers? We all know. I am really no different and my personal story is not earth-shattering nor especially enlightening.
We were having work done on the plaster ceilings upstairs. Several days before the 9/11 attacks, one of the workmen reported that our ancient dryer in the upstairs laundry room was was heating up all by itself. The next day, the repairman pronounced it dead. So on the morning of September 11, 2001, I was getting dressed in our bedroom after seeing our baby boy, then high school freshman, off to school. I remember watching Katie and Matt talking on the "Today Show" and then the first announcement and news break that a plane had hit the World Trade Center. They switched to the coverage and then a few minutes later, another plane and the news kept getting worse. You know the rest of that story. Well, I was in shock of course, but I continued getting dressed and drove to Sears. Inside the store no one was doing anything but watching the floor model TVs . I stood with the idle salesmen and cried while I made a dryer selection. Back at home the workmen had stopped pulling down the old plaster ceilings and together we watched in horror as the morning became mid-day and the nightmare continued. I found a a small American flag, a leftover from the 4th of July parade, and stuck it in a flowerpot on the porch.
Those who know me well know that Tuesdays are a day apart from the rest of the week. Tuesdays are reserved for a lunchtime ritual known as lunch with the "Bazaar Babes". There are 11 of us now, but then there were 12. We had planned to be at a restaurant, but decided instead to gather at our friend, Ann Griffen's, house. Ann, a victim of MS, had a large TV on which we continued to stare at the events unfolding.
Back at home, I passed by the little flag and swallowed the lump in my throat. The freshman was at home by then and had questions about the day. I didn't feel comfortable answering them, but tried instead to assure him that he would be safe no matter what. Isn't that what mothers do? He had a soccer game that night and the schools had decided to go ahead with it despite the events of that day. He went upstairs to his bathroom to shave and dress for the game. I was sitting at the computer looking at the pictures of the towers falling of people jumping to their deaths and of firefighters trying desperately to save people and loosing not only that battle, but of dying themselves. Suddenly this man-child ran out of the bathroom and said, "Mom, I need a candle, quick!". Stunned, I asked why. He said that he'd heard at school that someone had posted a request on the internet for everyone to hold a lit candle high at an appointed hour in respect for the lost lives of the day. So with a bit of shaving cream clinging to his chin and without a shirt on his still hairless chest, this sweet man-child of ours stood on the steps of the sidewalk in front of our house and held a lighted candle in one hand and the little flag in the other hand. Behind the cover of the front door I wept as only a mother can. Proud, questioning, frightened, and struck dumb, I hugged him to my chest and stifled the urge to scream. The next day, I picked out the color for the front door and by 5 o'clock that day our door sported two coats of a color named "American Beauty". It just seemed right as did the new large American Flag hanging from the porch .
9/11 changed us all. We are more fearful now. We experience more delays when we travel now. We no longer trust the way we did before 9/11. We have evolved in many ways and not all of them are bad. We, as a nation, I like to believe, are more patriotic. Our hopes are are realistic and grounded. Call me a "Pollyanna", but seeing a skinny, man-child holding a little candle and an American flag proudly on the steps of a humble, but proud home will do that to you.
God Bless America and all our sons and daughters!
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