No words

It was a Tuesday in September, 2001. I was a sophmore at the College of Eastern Utah. I had woken up very suddenly at 7 am. There was no reason, or at least I thought, the I would wake up that early. I didn't have my first class until 9. I went back to sleep, having no idea what was happening back east.

By 8:50, I was on my way to Theater Make-up. As I got to the theatre building, my professor, and now dear friend, came and grabbed my arm and told me to come with him. A fellow student followed him and told me that the Pentagon and the World Trade Center had been hit by planes and we were under attack. We made it to the student center and I looked over at the big screen tv in the cafeteria just in time to see a replay of the 2nd plane hitting the 2nd tower. My heart sank. It was very quiet in the student center. We stood in front of the tv and watched as the towers came down. It seemed like something out of a Hollywood action film. There were no words.

Slowly, we found chairs and sat down. I sat next to Corey and tried to wrap my head around what was happening. I had been to New York only two years before. I had seen the WTC and I had seen the towers. My photo album was full of pictures of the city. I love New York. It was then that Corey turned to me and asked if I knew how to get a hold of a mutual friend of ours, who lived just blocks away from the towers. I panicked. I had several friends who were going to NYU and lived not far from were thousands of fellow Americans were now trying to run for their lives. I thought to leave to try and contact them, but Corey put his hand on my arm and said "Please stay." I looked at him and saw the bewilderment in is eyes. I can only guess that I had that same look in mine.

We watched the footage again and again of the towers being hit and the towers coming down. Then we saw the pictures of people jumping from the higher floors. I cannot say that I wouldn't have done the same thing. So many scenarios ran through my head about what the people may be thinking. Then, we heard about United 93 crashing in the fields of Pennsylvania.  When was it going to stop? How many more planes were going to crash?

I don't remember how long we sat there. But I felt comforted in knowing that he was there too. Corey Ewan became another father to me and so I felt safe. I got various e-mails from family members that day. It was nice to know that everyone was ok.  I finally got up and decided to head back to my dorm. The campus was eerily quiet. I made my way over to the journalism room first. It was a crazy hurricane of typing and the other editors trying to put together a special edition paper. Since I was the Feature Editor, I sat down and started to work.

Eventually, I went back to my dorm, showered, and felt a little lost. My classes had been canceled for the rest of the day, and I didn't want to just sit in my room. For some reason, I decided to go to the Institute building. My class was canceled for the afternoon, but I didn't know where else to go. When I got there, I found that many others had the same feeling I did. There were several couple missionaries assigned to the college, and they were all there. One of the sisters came up to me, gave me a hug and a piece of homemade sourdough bread with fresh raspberry jam. She told me that everyone could use a little comfort food on a day like this.

Here were these people, who only 60 years before, had experience another kind of attack. That year was the 60th anniversary of the attacks on Pearl Harbor. This was the 2nd time in their lives that the county had been attacked. And what were they doing? Talking to the other lost college kids and handing out fresh bread and jam. Comforting them any way they could. And yes, the bread was just what I needed.

As the days past by, the feeling of patriotism was at a point I have never seen before. Everyone was proud to be an American and no one had an issue with singing "God Bless America." It was something that hadn't been seen in this country since the 1980 hockey team beat the Russians. Candle light vigils and hope that more survivors would be found was prevalent. Unfortunately, as the hope for finding survivors dwindled, so did the feeling of comradeship. There were some heroes that emerged from that day. Firefighters and policemen were respected once again.  

And, as in all things, time has passed. The country has moved on. The pride and patriotism has diminished. We have been at war for 8 years. Our politicians have made some crappy choices that have hurt the average American. Recession and joblessness is everywhere. But...I will always remember those few days in September 2001, when there were feelings of hope and friendship among everyone who calls this nation home. That was special. And for that...there are no words.

Post Edit - My deepest sympathies to everyone who lost someone that day. I have and will continue to pray for you and your family. Your loved one died a hero, and that is something to be proud of.