Where Were You

Where were you when the world stopped turning on that September day?   --Alan Jackson

 

Watching the pre-game ceremonies of the inaugural Sunday night football game of the 2011 season, for a brief moment, I allow myself to remember…

I woke in time to make it to my 9 a.m. shift at the Texas Tech Library that Tuesday morning. A senior in college, I had nothing on my mind but the start of my final semester as an undergrad, my new boyfriend, and Joyce Meyer. Listening to her television broadcast, I tracked time by how much of her show had expired. Applying the last of my makeup, I stuffed books in my backpack, turned off the TV, and ran out the door with a last glance at the clock. Just enough time to make it. I hope there’s a parking spot…

I was annoyed. My favorite radio morning show had nothing but news. Try preset 2. News. Preset 3. More news. What is going on?!?! The Holy Spirit pricked my spirit. Jace, something big’s happening.

I stopped the car and drove back down the driveway. Slamming the car in park, I hurriedly unlocked the door to my garage efficiency apartment. I really don’t have time for this… By the time I engaged the television’s power button, I had two phone messages alerting me to the tragedy displayed before me.

All of a sudden, my library job wasn’t that important any longer. Stunned, I slowly moved to my car and gradually made my way to campus, listening intently to the radio broadcasts. The library that morning was fuller than I’d ever seen it. Students and faculty gathered around the big screens in the lobby. Classes were cancelled. People tried to process…to get through the day.

We moved in groups that day. We walked each other to class. We gathered together for lunch. We stood in clumps waiting for classes to start. At the day’s dawn, we were strangers. By day’s close, we were Americans…wounded, grieving, united.

Tonight on the screen in front of me, bagpipes sound out Amazing Grace and Old Glory herself covers the football field. My eyes water; my heart is burdened. For a brief moment, I allow myself to remember…