Unforgettable

It was a beautiful September morning. I was at my computer preparing a lesson for 9 year old Megan whom I was homeschooling. She had just started 4th grade. Kevin and Erin were in 7th and 8th grade at Seton School in Manassas and Katie had just begun her second year of high school at home. The telephone rang. It was my mom.

"Do you have your television on?" I could detect panic in her voice.

"No, why?"

"A plane just hit one of the twin towers in New York!"

By now I was rushing over to turn on my TV. I could not believe what I was seeing. It chilled me to the bone. I watched in horror as a second plane crashed into the other tower. I needed to call Jim.

"Honey? Have you heard? It's so awful!" I cried.

I was filling him in on the national news reports, when NBC News correspondent, Mik Miklaszewski reporting from inside the Pentagon suddenly announced that there had been something akin to an explosion there! He soon confirmed that a plane had in fact crashed into the Pentagon.

"Oh, my God (a sincere prayer) - a plane has crashed into the Pentagon! What is happening??" This is war, I thought, we are under attack!

"I don't know, but I have to go." Jim hung up and was off to gather information from his fellow defense contractor colleagues. Emergency briefings were called.

And then a fourth plane - down in Pennsylvania! The world had suddenly, jarringly changed and I was afraid not only for myself, but for my children. And my heart was breaking for all the lives lost and it does still.

My memories of the moments and days that followed appear to me now like snapshots in a picture album. Snapshots that I will never forget.

I remember ...

Hoping Erin and Kevin were okay and wishing they were home with me.

Praying that morning with Katie and Megan and trying desperately to comfort them, somehow. But how?

Seeing and hearing the F-16 and F-15 fighter jets flying overhead all day long.

Seeing tanks and armed military personnel guarding the National Mapping and Imaging building near my home. This is war; we were attacked.

Thinking about my dad, a WWII vet, and wondering, had he still been alive, what he would have thought of these attacks. War always makes me think of my dad because he was so wounded by it and could never speak of it. His memories of it were stored away in a dark, lonely place only he could reach, but once in awhile he allowed a small hint of what lied hidden there to sneak out and you knew it was not good.

Holding Megan every time a plane flew over our house or over the fields where my kids played soccer. Living close to Dulles airport means this happened often. She was afraid for months and asked me again and again if the plane overhead was going to crash.

Seeing flags - American flags - flying everywhere. On homes, in yards, on cars, on trucks, on bridges and overpasses and "God Bless America" banners, too.

People praying. Churches were full as Americans turned to God for comfort, for peace, for answers.

Sadly, in time, people stopped going to God. The churches are no longer crowded. As the American flags faded from our landscape; our pews grew lonely, too. Where are they now? I'm sure they haven't forgotten. Have they?

What will it take to start the flags waving again? What will it take to keep people on their knees?

I'm afraid to find out.