Where were you?
An open mic for Flight School writers 🎤
Welcome Flight Schoolers. This day requires its own placeholder: 9-11 and the attack on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. So, let’s do it.
First, a moment.
And a prayer…your own or mine…
…for the souls who lost their lives on that terrible day, the families who lost their beloveds, and the ongoing reverberations felt through our young nation—in cities and towns—for that evil act of violence. We are told “vengeance is mine,” and so must trust that a higher power knows the whole truth of that day and the players who pulled the strings and that that great power will bring about justice.
Until then, we remember.
Member, as defined in medical dictionaries, is a distinct body part or limb. To dis-member something would be to deprive, divide, or reduce….As it’s opposite, re-member means to put back together, to recall, or retain.
~ From The Powerful Truth of Remembering, by Lori Jackson
Remembering: Where Was I?
Twenty-two years ago, I was overblown pregnant with my second child. People would stop me on the sidewalk because they thought I was having twins.
“No,” I’d tell them. “Just a big one, it seems. A girl.”
I got the news when I was touring for Blackbird in Amsterdam. I’d stepped (waddled) into a florist to get a bouquet for my Dutch publisher when the shop owner, a grizzled older man wearing a fedora and a smock, hurried over and asked if I was an American.
Surrounded by roses, dahlias, sunflowers, bluebells, cosmos, and so many more, I looked at him for a long moment. What made me such a standout, I thought. Surely not the bulbous belly?
“I am,” I said.
His face softened, and he touched my elbow. “Your country has been attacked,” he said.
He steered me to the front of the store, where a small television sat on a narrow countertop. On the screen, the instant replay of the images of airplanes flying into the towers. Again and again, the powers-that-be rewound the tape and started that reel over. Towers standing. Towers gone. Towers standing. Towers gone.
The mind cannot grasp what it’s never seen before, but the instincts know precisely what to do. I held my stomach, protective of the new life within, and then hurried out of the store and back to my hotel.
“Are you guys okay?” I asked my husband, who lived three thousand miles from ground zero. But what did I know? By the time I had him on the phone, all manner of horrors had played in my mind.
“Yeah. Me and Spencer are fine,” he said, the sounds of the TV playing that same news I had just seen. “But you need to come home. Now.”
Remembering: Where were you?
Where were you when it happened?
Please feel free to leave your story in the comments.
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