It's Friday, Where Were You?

Friday, September 10, 2010

Yes it is Friday and I'm TIRED! I haven't had more than 2 hours sleep and as for the reason? Who knows, my hillbilly alarm clock must be screwed up again. Needless to say I'm running slow this morning. I have composed a memory and will include it but.....

Being that I'm sleep deprived you may want to stop right here and that is okay. I won't bore you any longer. The below memory is my tribute of what I took from 9/11. I hope it makes sense and if you are choosing to leave here let me wish you a fun, wonderful, football filled (if so inclined) weekend. If you are continuing, well...


I recall a glorious, beautiful fall day driving to work. One of those special Kentucky mornings where the dew glistens like jewels on horse farm fields, fall colors paint gorgeous arrays of earth tone abstracts and the sky? The sky so clear blue you got lost in it, who knew?

Who knew that the glorious morn was to be an omen of ominous things to come? Looking back now, that vivid drive to work still haunts me; like the red sky at sea, the one a sailor pays such heed to. The omen of the morn is not what causes pause, but rather the reality of a generation. How old are your children?

You see I have a sister 20 years my younger and sometime during the unfolding tragedy of that day she phoned. It was a call that has always weighed heavy on my mind and heart. The voice of another generation facing what now, was a historical tragedy the same as Pearl Harbor or Vietnam was to those preceding them.

That day, when I answered my phone all I remember hearing was true, heart stopping panic. “They have fallen, fallen down, what is happening?” This is what was being screamed at me. Even though I had witnessed on television what was transpiring; I, myself was a little confused. “I’m scared, I’m home alone, what should I do?” The questioning screams just kept coming.

I remember trying to explain in a calming voice it would be all right. “Turn off the television,” I recommended. “Do you want me to come home?” I asked. Trying to believe no terrorist would be selecting her little patch of earth. Was I certain? No, were any of us? Still the panic and fear of her voice rang in my ears. In a sobbing voice, “No, I will be alright,” was all I heard.

In a single phone call my eyes had been opened. Opened to our newest generation. I realized at that moment studying history is much easier than living it. They now have only the trauma of that September morn to judge the severity of national tragedies. A generation with no Presidential assignations, no Cuba missile crisis, no protested wars, a generation where the color of your skin did not matter and they were not old enough to fathom the Challenger disaster. My phone call had said it all.

It told me much more was lost that September morn. I still carry the empathy and sorrow for those who have fallen. I still admire and applaud those who sacrificed with little self-regard. I still respect those who hound us with horrible imagines so less we not forget. However, the one feelings I cannot shake….

The feelings of that silent tear slowly rolling down my cheek. A tear I cry for the innocence of an entire generation that was lost. I must ask, for what? What was the lesson here?


Clarissa Draper said, 

Yeah, all the memories of that day came back to me on another post and made me cry.


September 10, 2010 at 12:39 PM  
Dawn said, 

touching, poignant, beautiful & unfortunately so true...lovely post

September 10, 2010 at 1:38 PM  
MT said, 

I was in a little town called Calient, CA - taking my kids to the bus stop. We didn't have a TV, so when we heard the news, we went to the neighbors and watched it all on CNN. So sad still.

September 10, 2010 at 3:14 PM  
welcome to my world of poetry said, 

A terrible day for America and terrible day for the world. It's a date no one will forget, nor want to.
My heart goes out to each and everyone of you,
I read your account with tears in my eyes.


September 10, 2010 at 3:17 PM  
Paula said, 

it is a day no one world wide ever will forget. If you want, please read my post:

Love and hugs to you, Paula

September 10, 2010 at 3:40 PM  
Mary said, 

I was at work in a hospital -- so many tears and fears. It was difficult to comfort and soothe when all I wanted to do was scream.
I wonder, what if any lesson did we learn?

September 10, 2010 at 4:31 PM  
oldgreymare said, 

I remember hearing when our neighbor's son had died in Vietnam...being in 6th grade Miss Weber's class when she entered the room after JFK was the hospital recovering from a c-section when the President was receiving family members after the Challenger explosion..
people on the streets crying after Martin Luther King was shot...

Signpost and milestones...

the night the Beatles were on Ed Sullivan
the day they walked on the moon - my birthday
the last breaths and moments of my parents

we mark our passages with events both good and bad...ordinary days fly by too swiftly - it is the monumental moments that give us clarity of a time, of a place, of our innocence...

we remember.... but do not always take the lessons to heart


September 10, 2010 at 4:58 PM  
Summer Ross said, 

I was sitting in my living room. I was on the phone but I don't remember with who....I still feel bad for all those people. In my community the radio had a card signing event today, everyone who wanted could stop by and sign this huge card for the police and firemen and tomorrow the station is going to deliver it.

September 10, 2010 at 5:11 PM  
Tammy said, 

Powerful post. Thanks.

September 10, 2010 at 6:19 PM  
The Words Crafter said, 

Wow, I hadn't considered how it would affect people who'd been young enough to never have experienced any sort of large tragedy. I hope she, as well as you, have recovered as much as possible. I think we learn lessons from situations, but I also think we forget them.....

September 10, 2010 at 7:02 PM  
Corine said, 

That was a powerful post which brought a tear to my eye and emotions to my soul. I hadn't thought of young people watching that news in that vicinity; I don't understand how I couldn't have, but I didn't.

I had just driven my husband to work, and was driving down the road to... somewhere. Somewhere closer to my children's school. They were sleeping in the truck. We had been homeless for 3 months at the time and had that to deal with. But my husband had a job. We had a truck to sleep in adn knew we would soon have a home (it lasted 4 months). We were all together. And we were all alive. It was a moment for me to count my own blessings... and mourn and pray for others.

September 11, 2010 at 12:46 AM  
arlee bird said, 

It was one of those times that stay with you. On the west coast, I woke up to the event on the news and didn't fully comprehend what was going on, but at first they didn't seem to on TV either. When I got to my office I started listening on the radio. When I realized the enormity of what was happening I turned on the television I had in my office. Work mostly ended for me that day as I stayed glued to the TV and radio.

The next few days were so strange with no planes coming in to the L.A. airport-- no air traffic whatsoever. Orders slowed tremendously for a few days. A lot of people were in shock.

That was a real turning point for our country and our sense of feeling secure.

Tossing It Out

September 11, 2010 at 1:12 AM  
Alex J. Cavanaugh said, 

A tragic morning. I still remember watching live as the second plane struck. Even more tragic than watching live when the Challenger exploded.

September 11, 2010 at 10:26 AM  
welcome to my world of poetry said, 

Jules thanks for the visit over here in the UK The Proms is something entirely different from your high schoolo proms,

Back in the 1885 a tradition during summer was started to have classical music concerts at various coastal towns, then at the end of summer a big one was held at The Royal Albert Hall in London where people could stand near the front also people seated in the upper seats where all the patriotic music was played. like the songs I mentioned in my poem.
A prom over here is short for promanade a walk by the seafront.
It's amazing we all speak the same language but some words have entirely different meanings.


September 12, 2010 at 9:00 AM  
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