Remember Now

I normally circulate the following story on 911 so that we never forget….better late than never!

911: A Personal Reflection

Editor’s Note: Jennifer Mitchell, formerly of Bedford, Indiana, wrote the following article hours after the events of 9/11/01. ~ Bedford Times Mail

As I watched the morning news in horror, I asked my mother, “What is today’s date?” As I suspected, the date is the 11th of September: 911. Three numbers dialed in sequence to call in case of emergency now have an entirely different meaning. An emergency, yes, but today, these numbers will serve as a date in history that we will never forget. We will always remember where we were, who we were with, and what we were doing at the time of America in Crisis. 9/11 will represent the first time in American history that the mainland of the United States were attacked by terrorists.

On this eleventh day of September, I am visiting my parents who live in the small community of Bedford with my two young sons. Like everyone in Bedford and around the world, I am in a state of shock.

I called my husband (who is a photojournalist) to simply hear his voice. We closed our conversation in tears with, “Today won’t be a slow news day.” The following days, weeks and months ahead are sure to be filled will images of this tragedy. Needing an emotional break from chaotic channel surfing, I decided to take my two year old son for a walk. Instead of my normal toddler chit-chat, I walked in silence with a heavy heart. My silence was soon to be broken.

I heard the news streaming out of car windows and from open doors of homes and small businesses. On a normal Indian Summer’s day, the windows would be open allowing fresh air in to cleanse minds, bodies and souls. But on this day, the flow of air was reversed and it was not fresh. Like stale, stagnant hot summer heat, fear and grief blasted through windows, ripped through screen doors and melted unsuspecting hearts. I saw people in cars holding their heads like they had the worst migraine headache of their life. I saw people weeping as they drove on what appeared to be a beautiful sunny day. I saw people shaking their heads in disbelief. I kept walking…

I walked to Lincoln Elementary School where I went to school as a child. I heard children screaming with joy but today’s events didn’t represent child’s play. I heard echoes of horror distantly from the east from incomprehensible acts of violence.

I thought of the children on the playground who had no concept of what just happened. I wonder what the world would be like when they would be adults. I wonder how the events of this day will affect young minds and hearts. How will children feel as these horrific images of terror stream into their homes and schools? As an adult, it frightens me. As a child, it will be horrifying.

I also thought about my toils and troubles and how they pale in comparison to what someone experienced inside the Twin Towers. It’s easy to dwell inside our own tower instead of looking up to the heavens with gratefulness for life and all of its mysteries.

Bedford uses a simple alphabetical system to name its streets. Pushing an empty stroller with my son in my arms, I rounded the corner to I Street. I mourn, I cry, I pray, I hope.

I mourn for those who lost their life and for their families.

I cry because I feel emotional and physical pain resulting from ignorance and hatred.

I pray that we will hold each other’s hand through this tragedy and join together in a prayer for peace.

I hope that when my sons are capable of comprehending this tragedy, I can teach them to love and to forgive.