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3:25 a.m. - 2004-09-13
911 �America Under Attack�

I wanted to post this on the anniversary of the attack. I had problems with my computer so I didn't get the chance until today.

I pray we never forget...

9/11 �America Under Attack�

To fully explain my irrational thoughts at the beginning of �America Under Attack� I first must go back to the weeks preceding the tragedy. I had been engrossed in a book series called Left Behind, by Tim Lahayne & Jerry B. Jenkins. There are eight books out at this time and in less than a month and a half, I had completed all of them. Ironically enough I had read the last one, The Mark, on the Sunday before the attack. I was in anticipation for the release of the ninth book scheduled for October 31of this year. The books are a fiction version of our final years�entering into the Tribulation days. These books follow bible prophecy, written by renowned prophecy scholars.

What had driven me to read all eight books? I don�t know. I recall standing at Wal-Mart and searching for something to read and the title, Left Behind, caught my eye. After reading the first book, I discovered it was a series. I was hooked.

Thinking about the Sunday before the unspeakable, I had started my first 12hour graveyard shift at my new job. My plan was to hang onto two jobs for the time being. I went to work as most of America slept and followed suit on Monday night. Tuesday was my day off but not getting home until 7 am, I went directly to bed. In just two short days I was becoming nocturnal�I was relating to my cats, which slept the days away with me.

On Tuesday morning for no apparent reason, I woke up after an hour and a half of sleep. It may have been my husband pacing back in forth in the kitchen. I felt oddness in association with those mundane steps. When I came into the kitchen my better half pointed to the TV, he was an ash color. I remember that. From that moment on the next hours were best described by watching a movie in slow motion. First thoughts were�why would a movie about blowing up the Twin Towers be on television in the morning. What happened to �Good Morning America?� As the day moved forward, horror, fear, profound sadness found its core. America land of the free, would never be the same. When the Towers one by one disintegrated with thousands of innocent people trapped inside, I looked at my husband and said, �We�ve been left behind.�

I have never in my life felt so utterly alone. The hours were ticking by and our world lay silent. We watched the minute-to-minute recount the crash on the Pentagon and then heard about the crash in Summerset County, (my husbands roots are deep in the PA foothills.) Don, my husband and I locked eyes, �it�s the beginning of the end.� We were eyewitnesses along with the rest of the survivors across the world. I kept expecting to lose TV contact. I felt by nightfall we would be standing in the yard waiting for the end.

I had come to realize that our ole mighty God had not sent his wrath on us sinners and taken home his chosen few. I knew we were under attack by terrorist.

The Middle East�s way of life living in fear, had reached our land, and marred our soil. The blackened skies over Manhattan, the ruins of the Pentagon, and the never-ending pictures of shock and tears from the survivors and those in search of loved ones were dominating our life. TV�s were never turned off, radios on, prayers were no longer forbidden in public places or government offices. Americans prayed as one. Violent movies were canceled, endings were being reconstructed, and videos games involving planes crashing into the Twin Towers were yanked from the shelves. Air traffic was suspended, borders closed�eyes all looked towards the Middle East�somewhere in hiding was the �invisible enemy.�

America stood still� temporarily; she was gathering her flock, �Either you�re with us or against us, no gray area any longer. The words were plain and clear. �America At War.� Flags were sold out in a day; anything colored with red/white and blue was not to be found at stores. Yards, cars, buildings, and bodies were displaying her colors. �I am proud to be an American!� We were screaming to the ears of our �faceless enemies.� Even those of us that just weeks prior to the tragedy were pro US government and felt free to voice it. This is America; we have the right to freedom of speech.

I lost some of my patriotic values after the kid�s dad returned from Viet Nam. While he was off fighting �a senseless war,� America was too busy protesting to care. My further slip away from giving a hoot about our government was during the last eight years of feeling like our former president made a mockery of his elected position.

Now, I listen to all of our president's speeches; I pay attention to what he has to say. I am proud to wave my little red/white and blue (the big ones are sold out) and cheer him on. He is our leader and I feel a new found since of pride, being on his side.

Looking back again I see how each of us dealt with this unbearable act somewhat alike. I felt the need to close the gap with my family. One of my girls called me; we shed tears and voiced our uncertainty of the future. My son for a few days was unaccounted for�but he�s fine. The day of the attack, I called my dad; he had tuned off the television and was trying to go on with the day-to-day. Mom was on her way back to church for special prayer. My Aunt was already in church when I made the call. I frantically searched my mind for all the family I knew I had but had never had the opportunity to meet. I knew they were out there, somewhere. We are spread from coast to coast�State to State. I heard some of their names and the places they lived from my parents. Where were they all during this strike against humankind? I cannot explain why it bothered me. Something inside wanted to connect with them and make sure we were all ok.

I had remembered years ago watching every Bob Hope special filmed in Viet Nam. I could recall searching the face of every soldier in hopes of catching a glimpse of the kid�s dad. I felt that same hopelessness looking at the horrified faces running from the chaos, the wounded, the stunned, and the grieving. The most shocking was those that jumped from the windows�the horror. Should I have known any of those people? I felt the need to reach out, to hug, to comfort. I felt helpless and grieved.

I have mulled over the last few weeks on what happened and why. I think maybe because we were snug on our soil. We are a proud bunch of Americans and take much for granted. The US itself is wealthy, although we all do not have a share of the wealth in dollars and cents. We for the most part have enough food, clothing and have the freedom to be individuals; we think and act as we wish. We open our borders to foreigners and we don�t really care if they want to stay.

We have no real concept on what it�s like to be born in a war torn country�we do not live with day-to-day terrorism. (Or didn�t, past tense) I don�t by any means believe we �had it coming� as some may think. I just think it appeared to be so far at a distance, only TV bringing it in our homes. We felt safe. Oh, we had crime and problems of our own in this country but not war on a grand scale. Terrorists that attacked our innocent thought they could bring America to its knees. They have brought their way of life to our part of the world. I do feel as we are being told, they misjudged us. They gave us back our pride, our faith in our Government and lead us back to church or in the least got us thinking.

Our stock market might be down but so is crime.

Our tomorrows will indeed be uncertain. The pain of our loss is deep, but we will heal. It may be a long road to recovery and trust will come slow. I am nervous around foreigners of Middle Eastern dissent. I pray this will pass with time.

If by chance, we are entering the tribulation days as the bible prophecy foretells�I want to be ready. I want God to know I am listening. God I am listening like never before.

Sandyz 9/25/01

 

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