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9/11 Where were you?

Other than in March do I post multiple times during the week, but during my morning perusal of other MS blogs, I came across this very timely blog post. It reminded me early in the morn the significance of this very day: 9/11.

Any major event of disaster prompts us to reflect on the basic question of "where were you?" There is no doubt that you know very well where you were when the planes hit the Towers.

 Standing behind my podium in room 310 at Miller Junior High School, I looked up from my testing manual to glare at the intruder who opened the classroom door. I was giving a test. My students didn't need any distractions.

That didn't stop the neighboring science teacher who came directly up to me and whispered in my ear "The Twin Towers have been attacked. Meet in Steve's office next period."

I struggled to keep an unbiased face and continue my teacherly responsibilities. Several of my students were related to first res-ponders, fire fighters, and National Guardsmen (myself included) who would be on high alert during this offense against our country. 

As a teacher it was my job to remain calm and be supportive for the students. As an American citizen it was my responsibility to stand behind our flag of freedom in any way I could. As the then wife of a soldier and a mother I had to stay strong. My MS battle was yet to come, but on September 11, 2001, my only thoughts focused on the condition of our country.

My prayers continue to go out to the survivors, victims, and our United State of America.

Tuesday, September 11, 2018


9/11. Seventeen years later. Hard to believe. I was sitting in my living room with a cup of black coffee, just about to begin my work day. It was my habit to watch a bit of the news with my first cup of coffee. Initially it seemed that a private plane had crashed into one of the towers. They were showing the live video of the crash site while smoke billowed from the building and the commentators weighed the affair. Then a ball of flame suddenly erupted from the second tower. The station played the video again and again. It was quite clear now that a jetliner had plunged into the tower. In that moment, everything changed. I went back to the bedroom to rouse my wife. She was just now waking. I needed someone else to see. I could not bear to see anymore alone. I felt that a friend, a beloved, a second witness could somehow decrease the pain. “What happened?” she demanded of the TV screen. “What happened here?” And she began to cry. We began to cry. There was nothing else to do.


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