Ten years ago today, we were three years into our marriage, no children, living in Huntsville, Alabama. Music was just “his thing,” and Jevon was eight months away from finishing college. It was a cool Fall morning, around 8:00 a.m. We had just arrived at our places of work: Will as a delivery driver for Coca-Cola and Jevon as a teller at AmSouth Bank. And that’s when we heard the hushed panic in our coworkers’ voices. The bank customers who entered the lobby in a rush were stopped in their tracks. Half-finished coke cans began to warm on the counter. The news was on, replaying a horrific scene that couldn’t have been conceived for any box office hit. It was as if what was being watched needed to be seen one more time to believe that it was really happening. Then the second plane…
America’s heart dropped low into its bowels. What has happened to our national security? We were exposed. Naked. Those people. Their families. Our people. Our families. This wasn’t happen to “them.” This was happening to us.
Never had so many turned to prayer. To God. To church. In search of comfort amid the ashes. What we thought we wouldn’t make it through, we look back on ten years later. Some of us are stronger, more full of hope, and holding on to the saving grace of God. Others are understandably still sifting through the debris. But here we are. Here we stand.
In memory of those lives that were lost on September 11, 2001, and their families, we light a candle of hope in their honor. We remember their heroism and their bravery.
For spacious skies
For amber waves of grain
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain.
God shed His grace on thee
And crown thy good
From sea to shining sea.