In this hour, 11 years ago, I was walking into my freshman dorm having just finished my 1st class of the day. I happened to walk in and see the tv in the lobby just as the first tower fell. Immediately, I ran up to my room on the 4th floor not totally understand what this all meant. As I walked past other rooms to reach mine at the end of the hall, I wanted to block out the voices of the newscasters on the tv's I passed. I got in my room, shut the door, and turned the tv on urging my brain to take in the details I was hearing and make sense of it all. I called my dad right away. I remember the first thing I said to him is... What's going on dad? What's happening? As if my dad, being 300 miles away, was going to fix this and get rid of my fear. Only to find him speechless as well.
Once I started to slowly process what was actually happening, my mind jumped back to just 5 months prior when I had the opportunity to take in the sights and sounds of NYC with my senior class. Our class picture was taken on the observation deck of one of the towers. I threw my gum off the roof. (Nobody died by the way) We walked in and out of the stores in the mall level below Tower 1. We ate pizza at a little shop around the corner run by a sweet Italian family. I thought of the security guards and all the people on the elevators and in the lobby. Some people that, unknowningly at the time, only had a few months to live. And in that moment, my grief became very real. I grieved as an American. I grieved as a human. And I grieved as a Christian. I was within inches of some of these people. I felt helpless, wanting to rewind the clock back 5 months and warn them. I wanted to yell and scream at them to run! Get out! Even now, 11 years later, 11 years filled with hurt, fear, loss, anger, change, healing, hope... I still get a lump in my throat thinking about that sweet hispanic lady I chatted with for a brief second as she was sweeping the floor in the mall level. The old Italian man making our pizzas at the pizza place. The cute young blonde girl selling suits at the Bacharach across the street. I don't know what happened to them, and I pray they are living healthy happy lives. But, I know for me, thier faces are forever in my mind and my memory. I will always remember.
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HEY, I'M JESSICA!
Christian. Wife. Mommy. Daughter. Pastor. Friend. Saved.Redeemed. Beloved.
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