I was getting ready to go to my very first Bible study at my church -- I don't think we'd even joined yet but had been going for awhile. Mark had been on call the night before so he had the day off and Wesley was home, too -- he was sick but nothing major. Shannon was in high school and Carrie was in fourth grade so they were not home.

I was in the bathroom (of our bedroom) and Mark was in the bedroom with the news on. He called out to me and said that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. I went into the bedroom and watched a few minutes -- like almost everybody, we thought that it was a small plane which had somehow gone off course. It was still bad but, for a few minutes, it was more a "oh, my goodness" kind of thing. We had actually been planning to go to NYC in October and I clearly remember thinking that they probably wouldn't have the "hole" in the building repaired by then and we'd get to see it. We figured the pilot and whoever else was on the plane had probably been killed and maybe some people in the building. Terrible -- but obviously not the horror that would soon unfold.

I think I went back to the bathroom at this point, still not comprehending what was happening -- and then we learned that another plane had flown into the other WTC building. At that point, things were starting to become clear but it wasn't until they showed a photo of one of the planes going into the building that I looked at Mark and said, "that's not a small plane."

We were glued to the TV -- just watching in horror...then they said that all planes were to be grounded -- those on the ground would not be taking off, those in the air were landing wherever they could, ASAP. Up until that point, it had not occurred to me that my mother was in Arizona and due to fly home that day. I knew it but she was arriving later in the day and I didn't connect the dots until that moment. I didn't really know what time she was leaving Phoenix -- only what time she was arriving in Augusta as there is a time difference so it really didn't matter what time she was leaving from out there. Anyway, I called out there immediately -- it was only about 6 AM or so at this point -- my brother answered and he sounded terrible -- looking back, I'm sure it was a mixture of what had happened and the knowledge that they were stuck with my mother until flights resumed (I'm so bad). Anyway, they were literally minutes from walking out the door to head to the airport - an hour later and she would have been on a plane, possibly in-flight -- and if they'd had to land somewhere, she would have been a basket case and we wouldn't have been able to get to her by any means but driving. That didn't happen -- thank God -- she arrived home the following Saturday, though just barely -- she didn't make the flight from Atlanta to Augusta that she was supposed to be on so, we were at the airport waiting and she wasn't on the plane. They told us that there was one more flight coming from Atlanta and she'd "probably" be on that one. We literally, at this point, had no way to find out. Anyway, she was on that last flight.

I went on to my Bible study -- it was sort of one of those days where you just didn't know what to do -- it was just the introduction to the Bible study so I don't think we stayed long -- and people from the office came in and told us about the Pentagon and Shanksville.

We picked Carrie up from school and, when I saw her, I jumped out of the car and grabbed her. I really didn't know, until today, reading something she wrote on FB, that she remembers that very clearly. She said they'd told them what had happened at school but that she didn't even know what the World Trade Center was -- but she knew there was something bad going on. Shannon got home at her regular time and she literally had a wild-eyed look about her -- she said all she'd wanted to do, all day, was get home.

Later on, at Shannon's school, they had a day where each student wore a sticker with the name of one of the victims of 9/11. Shannon had Betty Ong who was on one of the planes in NYC -- they have a recording of her that they play sometimes -- she was talking to Air Traffic Control and telling them that they couldn't make contact with the cabin.

I was a mess that whole week. I cried non-stop. Mark would come home from work and tell me to stop watching but I couldn't -- all of those people were out there, searching for their loved ones, holding up pictures and I really felt that I needed to see each one -- because, if that had been me, I wouldn't want anyone to forget what had happened. On this 10th anniversary, I have watched very little. This time, I just have to remember in my own way.

On Friday of that week, I talked to a woman in NYC who I'd been talking to about the event we were planning on attending, While talking to her, I broke down...and she comforted me. I also went to a prayer service at the church -- an older lady who I knew was seated in the church and I sat beside her -- I couldn't stop crying and she put her arm around me and held me the whole time. I probably would have been on the floor without her -- I talked to her just the other day and told her that -- and thanked her.

This same woman wanted to share some of the poems I'd written about 9/11 and I told her that was fine. One of my poems ended up being read at church today and a lot of people came up to me afterward -- it was weird but the poem  had come from my heart and people seemed to have gotten that --  I had put this particular poem (The Pit) on the fence at Trinity Church (near Ground Zero) when we visited NYC in July, 2002. I remember walking toward the area with my heart pounding and then we turned the corner and there it was. It seemed to me like a sacred place then and I think it is now, no matter what the PC crowd thinks.

Lynn
(didn't proofread...probably should...)