Where were you 7 years ago?

September 11, 2001.

I can remember exactly what I was doing that day. I think most everyone can, it was such a tragedy and so heart wrenching that you know exactly where you were when you heard what was happening. I have a feeling it will be like when you ask where your parents were when JFK was shot. Everyone remembers that horrific moment.

I was 16 years old, going to Lone Star College full time. I had a 7am math class that got out early, so I thought I’d take advantage of the empty couches by the door of my next class. Shortly before class was supposed to start I woke up to a strange buzz from the people in the common area. Two girls were crying and it seemed like everyone else was shook up as well. They were all talking excitedly about something. I hurried into my English class thinking I was late, and still everyone was talking about something. I was still a little dazed from just waking up and the best I could figure out was that the excitement was about some sort of bomb, but I thought they were talking about the Oklahoma City bombing. "Why would they still be talking about that?" I couldn't figure it out. James, a kid in class I sat next to, tried to get the news on the computer but it was still too fresh to be online. We must have checked MSN.com a hundred times. Finally Mrs. Gossett gave up and we started class. When English was over (still unsure about what happened) I had to hurry to my history class. When I walked in my history teacher was ranting about Bid Laden and he just knew that he was behind the attacks. All I could think was “Who?” He was still in the middle of the rant when a police officer opened the door and very calmly said, “There is no threat to campus, but we are evacuating. With the events that are going on right now we feel that it’s best everyone go home and be with their families.” And with that, 3,000 people headed for the parking lot. I had gotten a ride to school that morning, so thankfully some random guy from class took me home. We didn’t even talk, we just listened to the radio announcers try to explain what was happening with the Twin towers, the Pentagon and with the other planes. I think we were all a little shocked.

By the time I got home and inside (it was barely 11am) my Dad was already home from work. He was working in a sky scraper in downtown Houston, and they got everyone out of those buildings faster than kids in primary when church is over. Since we didn’t actually have cable we had to hook up some bunny ear antennas to the TV to watch the news. I could hardly believe what I was seeing, and my heart was in my throat the entire as I choked back tears. I didn’t know anyone, I didn’t have friends or relatives involved but I was horrified as I watched Fox replay the tapes over and over. It made me sick to my stomach to see people jumping out of buildings and to hear their bodies hit the ground. It was the most numbing feeling I’d ever felt, like someone had sucker punched me and I was still trying to catch my breath. But like any horrible show, you couldn’t stop watching even though you almost couldn't bear to see it again.

I must have watched those planes hit the towers a hundred times that morning.

A little while later I had a friend call to say they were going to ride ATV’s now that school was out and ask if I wanted to go. I couldn’t believe anyone could go enjoy life when so many people’s were in ending, so many orphans and widows being made-I declined so I could stay home and huddle in front of the TV with my Dad.

Later that day I walked outside and heard a strange silence. We’re only 20 miles or so from the Houston airport, and not to hear a single plane in the sky was almost a deafening silence. The videos of the twin towers falling replayed over and over in my mind like a bad dream that I couldn’t get rid of. How could our nation be attacked like this? Who would do such a thing? How did they get past security, my overall buttons set off alarms! As the days transpired somehow things got more horrific. I will never forget the pictures people would bring to ground zero of their loved ones still missing. Days later people were still waiting for moms, dads, brothers, aunts, sisters and children to be found, rescue workers would be pulling pieces of people from the rubble for months afterwards.

There are many people who wondered where God was when that was happening, and how he could let that happen.

Now that's it's been a few years the shock and feelings from those days have slowly worn off it's important that we always remember this day. I think one of the most touching things I've seen is what people have done with some of the steel beams from the towers. Many of them have been sent all over the United States for memorials. It's beautiful. I'm glad that ground zero has been turned into a place of memorial, for people to come and visit and hopefully find some peace out of the terror that occured that day. If you want to contribute to the memorial fund, you can click here.

Since then a lot has happened with our country and a lot of questions remain. Was it an accident? Could it have been prevented? Regardless of politics today is a day of memoriam, a day to remember those who died. We remember and honor the people who died, we remember the sacrifices of so many that were there giving everything they had (as well as those who did it from afar), we remember the firefighters who died “just doing what they do,” we remember those who survived, and those who were lost. We just remember.

Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day?