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.