By Staff
Important dates in our lives will always be remembered in one way or another.
I can remember someone telling me the week before I got married that I'd never remember everything I did on my wedding day leading up to the ceremony.
I'm not sure if that statement made me more conscious of what was going on around me, but I promise you I can remember just about every step I took on the day of my wedding nearly 25 years ago.
I can also remember the things I did on the day my son was born nearly 10 years ago. I can remember the thoughts that went through my mind and the things I did on that day. I remember everyone who visited me in the hospital during the 24 hours of labor I endured prior to his birth.
The activities, people and emotions of those two very important days in my life will, I hope, forever be etched into my memory.
This past Thursday, I had the misfortune to be at home sick. I have commented in this space before about how bad daytime television is and the shows you have to endure during a boring day of illness.
However, on this particular sick day, I was glad to have been at home and have the opportunity to remember another important day in my life.
Although the Twin Towers in New York had never been on my travel itineraries, I knew where they were. No person I knew or was even mildly acquainted with worked there. I knew the Pentagon existed because I had seen it in countless movies and news stories. I was even aware that there were fields in Pennsylvania even though I've never been there.
I can remember that day seven years ago with a vividness I'd rather forget.
As my husband went to off to work for the day, I turned on the coffee pot and began a daily ritual of gathering dirty clothes, dirty dishes and a wild amount of toys scattered across my home.
After the coffee had brewed, I stopped my work to sit down and enjoy a cup before my son woke up. It was one of the few times that I had more than a moment to myself.
The clock was practically on 8 a.m. and I had grown accustomed to watching a particular show on television each morning at that time. (Daytime television was all right back then. I had become a stay-at-home mom and grew to appreciate early morning television.)
As I settled into my chair for a cup of coffee and to hear what Regis and Kelly had going on in their lives, my life changed, as did so many others.
In the moments after the first laugh of the day from some quip by morning show hosts, a special bulletin came on the air that an airplane had crashed into the World Trade Center.
Uh-oh was my thought. New York is a thousand miles away and I didn't know anyone there. Too bad.
I watched the coverage of that “accident” wishing they would get back to the show I was watching. Then it happened.
As I watched the news coming into my home by satellite from New York, I saw it. I saw the shadow of the second airplane as it crossed the screen followed by stunned silence from news reporters on the air.
When those announcers composed themselves and announced that a second plane had flown into the second tower I knew things in America had changed. I remember thinking, “that was no accident” as I sat there with my eyes glued to the set.
It wasn't an accident. It was an intentional attack on America. The folks in New York just happened to be the target.
Even though the events in New York were thousands of miles away from my soft, comfortable chair, it affected me. It has affected everyone whether we choose to believe it or not.
As I sat last Thursday morning and watched coverage of memorial ceremonies held on the site of the Twin Towers, I remembered. I remembered all of my activities for that day. I remembered that the safety of America was compromised while I wished for a return to some babbling personalities on a television show. I remembered that Brewton residents have lost so much because of what happened that day.
What upsets me most is that I had gone through my daily activities throughout the week not giving any thought to what Thursday would mean to so many people.
As I did seven years ago on Sept. 11, I wept Thursday. I watched as lives changed. I watched as families continued to hurt for loved ones lost. I listened to the reading of the names of people who perished in those buildings, at the Pentagon and in that Pennsylvania field.
I remembered. I hope I never forget.
Let's roll.
Lisa Tindell is the news editor for The Brewton Standard. She can be reached at 867-4876 or by email at lisa.tindell@brewtonstandard.com.