We Will Never Forget

What you see here is a picture that I had gotten from a friend but had never hung on my wall. The evening of Sept. 10, 2001 I went and got a frame and hung it in my hallway. I can't tell you why, it just seemed fitting with all that was going on in the world. Little did I know....

September 11, 2001 started like any other day. I got up, got ready for work, and got to work early (about 7:30) to grade some papers. I will never forget the look on the face of my first student to enter the room that day. With a look of terror I will never forget she asked me, "Mrs. Nelson, did you hear about a plane flying into the World Trade Center!? We heard it on the radio on the way to school!"

I virtually ran across the room and turned on the television. There stood the first tower burning about 3/4ths of the way up. The commentators by that time had not found out the plane was hijacked and flown directly into the building. They were saying it was an accident. My heart ached for all the people trapped above the burning plane as well as those who had been on board.

I left the television on just to keep up with what was going on and I began our morning routine. I looked up just in time to see the second plane flying into the second tower. You could hear a pin drop in my talkative sixth grade classroom. I don't know which student it was because my eyes were glued to the television, but I remember the small voice behind me asking, "Mrs. Nelson, this WAS an accident, wasn't it?" Even before the newscasters said it, I told my class, "No, these are terrorists."

We kept the TV running and tried to start our day when the announcement came that the Pentagon had been hit with more images of people running and fires burning. Then the announcement that a passenger jet had crashed in Pennsylvania.

All schoolwork stopped just in time to see the first tower fall. It was a horrifying site on many levels- the firemen that were in there trying to save others, those still in the tower, the site of the ash cloud as people ran from it to keep from smothering. the sheer cost in human life. Not long afterward, the second tower fell as all 30 of us watched in silence.

We kept the TV running until noon. Sometime during that time, one of my students came up to me and asked to speak to me in my "office" (the hall). She was a tiny little thing for a sixth grader with dark hair and dark eyes. She turned those beautiful eyes, half filled with tears, up to look at me and asked, " Mrs. Nelson, do you think anyone got out? My cousin works in the World Trade Center."

I took her in my arms and we BOTH cried as I said, "I don't know, sweetie. They say there are survivors. Do you know where he worked?"

She pulled back, tears flowing, "Somewhere near the top."

I have only done this twice in my teaching career without asking the student if they wanted to. We stood there weeping in each others' arms and I prayed, not only for her cousin, but her entire family as they wait for news, because I knew it would take a long time to sort this out.

We dried our faces and returned to the room. I finally turned off the TV because the weight of what had just happened was just getting too heavy for me or the children to bear. We went to lunch and then tried to salvage the rest of the days lessons. It wasn't long before I realized that this was not a day for lessons.

We went outside to find almost ever other upper grade out there. They too had spent the day watching what we were all realizing was a day that would find its way into the history books. As President Franklin Roosevelt said on Dec.4, 1941, "This is a day that will live in infamy."

It turned out that my student's cousin had been killed in the collapse. I knew what had happened when a week later her mother came to the door to check her out of school. It was difficult news for my class to hear. It made the whole horrific scene on 9/11 more real, more personal.

On that fateful day, I went home and turned to my Bible for comfort. The first verse I thought of was ,"Jesus wept." (John 11:35) I went into the hall and stood and stared a the picture that I had hung the night before. I had had that picture for over a year. Why did I hang it the evening of September 10th? Was God trying to tell me or prepare me for something?

I wrote earlier this week about the pastor that planned to burn 200 copies of the Qu'ran and how it, too, was wrong on so many levels. I praise God that he decided not to burn them and put so many people in danger.

However, I am afraid the fuse had been lit. Last night on the news there were more images of angry Muslims violently protesting the burning. They probably are not going to believe anyone that tells them the burning never happened. To them, it will be just another Infidel lie.

We will never forget what happened 9/11/01. I bet that, if asked, you could tell me every detail of where you were and how you found out about the events of that day,

But we also need to remember on this day and everyday that, "For we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tempted in all things as we are yet without sin. Let us therefore draw near with confidence to the throne of grace that we may receive mercy and may find grace to help in time of need." (Hebrews 4:15-16)