I didn't Post on Sept. 11th

There are some days when getting to the computer is hard. Whether it's overly boisterous children, a neglected hubby or a recent widow needing a friend, some days are just harder to manage "me" time than others.

September 11th was like that. Well, that and the heavy emotions of it all.

In the UK, I did not have the American news feeding the memorial service, but I knew it was happening. Our kids didn't observe a moment in silence in their British schools and my friends didn't gather around and compare what that day was like for them. They will do that on July 7th (for the tube attacks).

But I remember...

September 11, 2001 my oldest son was at school. We had just moved into our on-base house and had a blue rug on our drab tile floor with a child's wooden rocking chair poised right in the middle of it. Three year-old J2 was preparing to watch a little Blue's Clues on the VCR.
As I turned on the TV and started adjusting the antenna (the cable hadn't been hooked up yet), I could see a blurry image of the World Trade Center north tower with smoke coming out of it. I honestly thought that for some reason, the news was showing a clip from the bombing in 1993.

I couldn't read the ticker, so I adjusted and readjusted until I had a semi-clear image. I was horrified when I finally realized that a plane had gone into it just moments before.

When the next plane hit, I screamed.

Our base went into THREATCON DELTA*-- something only done when we are under attack.

*(There are loud speakers declaring the actions we should take, the gates on and off are locked and guarded and our little gated-village life becomes a precise military machine).

My husband was at work.
The news anchor, with an expression that I knew I must be wearing, was speculating about how many unaccounted planes were still in the air.
My husband was at work.

Another plane hit the pentagon. Where we knew people.
The speaker system across the base was repeating "Attention... Threatcon Delta". It was frightening.
Flights were grounded but a few were still unaccounted for.
My husband was at work... in an Air Traffic Control Tower on a military base. A military base that was home to fighter jets-- a great target for terrorists flying planes.

I had never feared for his life like I did at that moment (I would soon learn real fear when he was then deployed to Iraq).

I have no idea whether or not I fed my kids that day. I must have, but I remember nothing other than standing in front of the TV and crying-- in between fielding phone calls from family members wondering how we were affected and frantically searching the pentagon list for names.
That day changed this military family forever and we won't ever forget it.
We haven't forgotten the lives lost in NY, Washington DC and Pennsylvania. We stand a little prouder because of the way Americans stepped up in the face of terrorism.
I will never forget the emotions that thousands of American Flags waving in the streets drew from me. I won't forget the acts of heroism, the acts of charity.

I'll tell you what I did forget--
I have no idea what the names of the terrorists were. I would recognize them if I heard them, but I don't know them--I won't honor them that way. They died in oblivion as far as I'm concerned.