Very well,
Then, as now, I live(d) in El Segundo, California. (For those in Rio Linda, El Segundo is immediately south of LAX International Airport.) I had just returned from a church retreat late Sunday, and my apartment room was a mess. I had gone out with friends late Monday night, and woke up groggily on Tuesday morning, September 11.
In my job at a local church, I had a flexible schedule that allowed me to choose the time I would start. I needed to get some materials returned from the recent retreat...but when I woke up, I couldn’t find a clock, I wasn’t wearing my watch, and I wanted to know what time it was. So I decided to look in the one spot where I knew the time would be shown...the morning talk shows.
I turn on Fox 11, and I see a building on fire...since I wasn’t wearing my glasses, I thought that it was a movie preview...the shows do it all the time. So I put on my glasses, and then I was able to see the captions - two planes fly into World Trade Center, terrorism suspected.
I then noticed something that I was unaccustomed to hearing in my neighborhood, right next to the airport - there was no noise. (the planes had been grounded by then) It was the eeriest sound I never heard.
First I was in shock, then I was angry, and then, as I finally got myself together and went to work, I lost it everytime I saw an American flag. There is a McDonalds down the street from my old apartment, with one of the biggest American flags you’ll ever see. And it was already at half staff. I stopped at the post office and at a BMW dealer on my way to work and asked them if they would lower their flags. They agreed. People were crying in the post office, in line. I tried to offer comfort.
Our church was open extended hours at noon for a few weeks, for those who wanted to come and pray, or cry, or talk, or whatever. We had special prayer services, as well as our regular weekend services, and all the while, everytime I saw the pictures, saw the flags, saw the police and firefighters, I lost it. Everyday the local sports station would play the National Anthem at noon and at 5pm, and I cried until I thought I had no more teara. I was wrong. The flags were still up in Redondo Beach from Labor Day a week prior...even thinking of it now, I start to lose it.
And this was before I started to become “political”, before I ever heard of Free Republic...before I started listening to Rush, or Sean, or Larry Elder, or Mark Levin, or Hugh Hewitt, or any of the other talkers.
To those who ask me about my political views and history, I tell them this: if the aftermath of the 2000 election was my “conversion”, 9/11 was my full immersion “baptism”...and six years later, having had to move from El Segundo because of the aftermath of 9/11 (my roommate was an airline mechanic), I have now come full circle. I will be matching the news in the morning, and watching as many memorials as I can, before going to work.
God bless our President, and those who serve to protect us from our enemies, foreign and domestic.
In a hotel close to LAX I was struck at the strange quiet when they shut down the airport and no planes were constantly arriving and departing.
Two days before I had been at church and afterwards attended the church picnic.
It was a lovely day.
The church was a good outreach to the many young folks living & working in LA...
..the next Sunday, after 9/11, the church was packed with these young folks, quite a few of them in the entertainment business...
..and who fully realized...maybe for the first time... life can be fragile and fleeting.
The pastor's sermon was awesome!