This is simply a quick tale of my experience on September 11, 2001.  I was pastoring in a little town of Toomsboro, GA and going to Luther Rice University, which was about 3 1/2 hours north.  I had already been in class, but was feeling a little under the weather, with a headache that was growing so I decided to hop in my burgundy Dodge Dakota and head to my mom’s house which was only an hour away so I could rest.  As I was getting on to the interstate, I turned on my radio and noticed something was wrong, but couldn’t figure out what was happening.  Suddenly, one of the anchors broke in and announced that a plane had just struck the Pentagon.  I still had not heard about the Twin Towers, so I thought this was an accident, but a freakish, devastating accident.  I took out my candy-bar cell phone and called the school to let them know that a major event just happened.  They already knew.

As I continued to drive, baffled and speechless, while driving too fast, I slowly began to find out what had already transpired for the day.  The pieces began to fall into place.  I called my mom to let her know I was on my way.  She was glad to hear from me.  I called my wife to wake her up and tell her to turn on the television.  By the time I had gotten to my mother’s home the first tower had collapsed.  Within minutes, maybe seconds, of walking in, the second tower went down.  My sister was also there; to this day, I have no idea why.

Like most other Americans, my eyes were glued to the news.  Most of the day is a foggy memory, but I do remember (as they say you always do) where I was when I heard about the terrorist attack on 9/11.

I’d love to hear your story.  Where were you? What do you remember about that day?  Leave a comment.