That was the topic of conversation as I sat with my 10th grade classes today. The original question was "where were you on September 11, 2001? For pretty much all my students, they were sitting in a 3rd grade classroom somewhere. Being a history teacher, I frequently try to engage the kids in conversations that actually make them think about the world as it was; the world as it is, and the world as it may be; although I know that the concept of time is skewed in some young minds. Saying that, we actually had a very good conversation today; all my classes did. Because of the Christian environment, we were able to pray together for the men and women of New York City, the Tri-State area, Washington D.C. and for the families of those heroes whose airplane fell in Pennsylvania. We prayed for those emergency responders who arrived on the scene shortly after the attack and their families. We prayed for the men and women who are serving in the military right now; both here and overseas; for their families who have sacrificed so much. We prayed for the leadership of this country; not by name but as a whole. I have a couple kids whose parents are currently in Iraq or Afghanistan, and we prayed for that. I think it's absolutely incredible when young Christians come together in praise of His name. I love that, and that's part of why I love working where I do.
So, where was I on September 11, 2001? As I told the kids, I was at school. I was right in the middle of teaching when Kate called my cellular phone crying. She was at home with our then 4-month-old son, Aaron. I thought one of them was hurt. I can still hear her say, "something is happening in New York City!" A few seconds later, the principal came into my room. I found something to busy the students, and I followed him into the hallway. There, a group of teachers who had also been called out of their rooms was huddled together. Our principal at the time, a wonderful man of God, said he wanted to pray. It was in his prayer that I discovered what really was happening.
Going back into the classroom, I didn't know whether to tell the students or not about what had happened. I consulted with the principal, and we agreed that we would try to notify every parent first. I eventually told the class what was happening, as some were curious about the commotion, and then it was silence. Tenth graders are aware of their surroundings. They might not show it, but they know when something giant is happening. Obviously after I told them the news, the questions began pouring out. I found myself saying "I don't know" a lot that morning.
Panicked parents began calling the school. Some parents wanted to come get their children. We received permission to release school early, and we released at 12:30 that day. Although in North Carolina, we were far removed from the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, or the field in Pennsylvania; we felt the best place our students could be was at home with their families at that time.
As soon as all the children were on their way home, the staff had a prayer meeting in our lobby. We didn't know what was happening in our nation, but we praised His name anyways. In the days, weeks, months, and years since September 11, 2001; His name is still being praised. We don't know why, but we have faith in His control. As soon as I entered our house that afternoon, I hugged and kissed Katie and Aaron. I turned on my television, and I watched sadly with the rest of America. Where were you?
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My baby had been baptized on Sunday, September 9, so I always remember that 9/11 was a Tuesday. My oldest son was already at school; baby had just finished a bottle, and my almost-two-year old was having eggs and sausage cooked by Daddy, who was to leave for the airport to fly from O'Hare to New York for a business training session. I remember shuddering as it started to be known that the first impact was intentional. I watched as the second plane hit on morning news. Thank God my husband was still at home, not in an airport or God forbid, an airplane. I remember watching as the first tower crumbled to the ground, just sobbing at the horrific sight. And praying in thanks to God that my family was safe, and for help for all of those whose families were not. And our lovely young lady who carpooled with us to school, her birthday was that day, and it was so hard to act normal for her on her 10th birthday.
My nephew is one of the thousands of Marines stationed in Iraq and the middle east, and today my prayers and thoughts are especially with him and the troops, and with the families who lost someone 7 years ago today.
Ann from Chicagoland
I was preparing to teach. My husband (an at-home dad) was planning to take our then 3 year old son to the zoo. I got up and "for some reason" (definitely God)I turned on the morning news, something I rarely ever do. My hubby & son were still sleeping. I turned on the phone just as the plane hit the 2nd tower. (We're in Oregon so it was around 7 am here.) I watched in horror. Not wanting to wake people up, I left my husband a note about what was happening so he wouldn't turn on the TV in front of Shane. I live 7 miles from my school. Listening to the radio during the drive, I heard Peter Jennings react as the 1st tower fell. My school is out in the country and we had no TV reception so we had to rely on a radio in the staff room to keep updated.
I teach a 4th/5th grade class. Because of the time difference, some of my kids had seen what was happening before leaving for school, but about 1/3 had no idea. Since kids were talking about it, I had to tell my class a bit about what was happening. 9 to 11 year olds don't have a great sense of geography, so we had to look at where all this was occurring on a map. I remember the fear & confusion in their eyes. One of the students asked if I was afraid. I answered that I was as confused as everyone else, but that I was praying about it so I didn't feel afraid. (public school--about as far as I felt I should go)
One of the main memories I have is that on the 10th, I had come home to a house in chaos. My son had gotten into my makeup, smearing it on himself & walls; every toy & book he owned was strewn throughout the house, and lunch dishes hadn't been done. My husband, who has kidney problems, was too weak to deal with the mess. I was quite upset as I cleaned. (I was dealing with beginning of school fatigue and wasn't being very compassionate....) Coming home on the 11th, I entered a house that was clean and a nice dinner cooking on the stove. My sweet husband had thought about the toll that dealing with the confusion with children might be taking on me. And you know what? I realized at that moment that the previous days' mess didn't matter one iota. It's amazing the perspective that we can lose when we aren't focused on what really matters.
My prayers are with the loved ones of those who were lost as well as with those who serve today.
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