I think every generation probably has one world event that makes them remember exactly where they were at the moment. For my parents it was the assassination of JFK. I remember interviewing my mom for a book report in 8th grade.

Years from now I’m sure my kids will be interviewing me about 9-11 and my memories of that day.

I was working at the time and usually got into the office around 7:30 a.m. The only other person usually there at that time was the office manager Peggy. When I arrived the office was open and lit but I didn’t see her. I settled into my cubicle and went to take my lunch into the kitchen. She was in the break room with the TV on. "A plane just hit one of the twin towers," she said. For a minute I struggled to think what the twin towers where – oh yeah, the World Trade Center. I quickly sat down and we watched for a few minutes. It was a bit surreal as I had been in New York City with my mom and brother just 2 weeks before. At that time the media didn’t know what airline the plane was from. I immediately thought of my sister in law who is a flight attendant for Southwest.

I ran to my cubicle, grabbed the phone and called her.  I remember sinking to my knees in relief when she answered the phone (oh geesh, I’m getting all teary-eyed now typing this). She too was watching the news. I just sat on the floor and talked to her for a few minutes. Then I went back to the tv.

Now I’m a journalist by training and I worked in a media relations office for a major university. So to say that we were news junkies is a HUGE understatement. As other people started to arrive the group in the break room grew larger. We saw the second plane hit the other tower. We heard about the other 2 planes crashing. We witnessed the towers collapse with horror and watched the people, covered in ashes, stream down the streets I had walked just days earlier.

The Marriott hotel that my mom and I stayed at during a visit in 1999 was gone. The restaurant we ate at, gone. The tower we stood on top of and took pictures, gone.

The campus was eerily quiet that day. Some classes were cancelled, the ones that still met did nothing but talk about the days events. Huge groups of students crowded around every available tv in the MU.

My husband was a schoolteacher so we tried to talk a few times in between classes. What I really wanted to do was go pick my almost 2 year old up from daycare and just hug him tight. I’m not sure why I didn’t just go. It’s not like we got any work done.

We had the TV on at home that night until Noah started to say "Plane crash, boom" complete with sound effects. So we turned it off and I realized that even I didn’t want to hear any more for then.

It’s weird to think of how our lives have changed. All the extra security with flying, things like that. My parents just left for a five week trip in England, Scotland and Ireland. Before they left I got copies of their passports, a detailed itinerary and we discussed emergency communication ideas "just in case" there was a terrorist attack over there. Six years ago we never would have bothered.

When I first heard of Oliver Stone’s film "World Trade Center" I wasn’t sure if it was something I wanted to see. It’s not that I felt like it was too soon to see, or to real. It’s that it was Oliver Stone. I’ve never been a huge Oliver Stone fan and I somehow doubted that I would want to see his interpretation of the events.

But then I read a few reviews that were actually pretty favorable. A couple of them mentioned specifically how Stone left in several "faith" elements.

So we went to see it the other day and I was actually pretty impressed. It was an interesting take on the day because it’s told from the side of the Port Authority. It tells the story of 2 PAPD officers rescued from the rubble when the first tower collapsed (they were numbers 18 and 19 of 20 people found alive).

The "faith" element refered to Sgt. Kearns, an ex-marine who feels God calling him to go to NYC and help in the efforts there. It also includes a scene of him talking to his pastor before he goes to NYC and then is responsible for finding the two PAPD officers.

If you’ve been wavering about seeing it, I would recommend it. It did make you remember that day very vividly and I doubt anyone can see the film without remembering exactly where they were that morning. When the movie ended it was so silent in the theatre as people left…a very weird experience.

Now is also a good time to remind you of the the 9/11 blogging memorial…2,996. Go to DC’s site to sign up.

It was a warm Phoenix evening in 1989. I had spent the last week being consoled by friends over breaking up with my boyfriend who I had dated for a year – my first real boyfriend. It was one of those mutual "see other people" decisions, but it was still hard. So I was at a JV football game, working the concession stand as the junior class did every year. I wandered out to talk with my friend Travis. He was sitting next to Mark. Mark had blown out his knee at the football game the week or so before so he was in a splint and crutches and looking pitiful. Somehow I turned into a waitress, hand delivering items from the concession stand.

Arriving back with a couple of Coke’s in my hand it was apparent that I had interrupted some sort of conversation. They admitted to talking about homecoming and then something was said about homecoming, the two of them and me and my best friend (as in arranging couples). I think I probably just stood there for a minute because I know I was thinking "Um, okay, well are they saying Travis would take me (which seemed like it would make sense as we had always kind of flirted) or Mark? They cleared up the confusion and I figured out it was Mark who was interested in me. (He hadn’t realized that S. and I had broken up as he’d been in the hospital all week.)

There’s nothing like a possible new love interest to help you over your grief right? I remember just sort of floating through the rest of the night. I didn’t know Mark really well but I sat in front of him in chapel all year…and the school only had 250 kids in it so you sort of knew everybody. But I knew enough to know that he was one of those "all american, apple pie, your mom will love" kind of boys. He was student body president, a wrestler, football player, honor society. All that jazz.

And so our courtship began – with him on crutches. I don’t think he could drive for about the first month that we dated. We’d go to pizza after football games, talk on the phone, we made plans for homecoming. I remember one Friday night after the game we had gone to Peter Piper. I figured this would be the night of our first kiss. Well for some reason I got sick and threw up in the bathroom. I think he probably still would have kissed me later but EWWWW gross!

It may seem silly to some but I knew within a couple of months that this was the man I was going to marry. When I said something about it at dinner my dad’s exact words were "Well don’t tell him that!" I think he figured Mark would freak out. Well I didn’t tell him right away, but it soon became apparent that he felt the same way.

We dated that whole year. Mark graduated and prepared to go off to Arkansas to college at JBU and I was left behind. We vowed to stick it out and do the long distance relationship thing. Now this was long before the days of email (unless you were in NASA) so we wrote good old fashioned letters. Every day almost. I have stacks and stacks of them still. I’m sure our kids will hoot and holler over them someday. He visited, I visited. We survived the year and the next fall I arrived at JBU too. (He later, like after we were married, told me that if I hadn’t come to JBU he was going to break up with me 🙂 Thanks honey!)

We were married on August 14, 1993 – halfway through college. Our first years of marriage were spent in a TINY married student apartment that had mice, but we had a great time building a life together – even if our meals consisted mainly of hamburger helper and mac and cheese.

13 years later I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else. Yes, we’ve had our tough times. We’ve moved more times than I care to count. I’ve gone from being an Army wife, to a teacher’s wife to a pastor’s wife. He’s been there while I struggled through the darkness of depression and helped me come out the other side. He’s a man wholly devoted to God, an amazing father and the best friend I could ever have.

I love you honey. Happy Anniversary!