The 911 Call

It seemed like any ordinary day. My sister Jenny, who had just moved to Dallas from New York City and I had stayed the night at my sister-in-laws house. She and her husband were on vacation in Ireland and she wanted someone to stay with their dog. We got up around 8:30am, got dressed and decided to stop in at K-mart on the way home. The store seemed strangely quiet. No one was talking. Not even the cashiers. We, on the other hand, completely oblivious to what was happening, were talkative and cheerful. K-mart isn't exactly known for atmosphere, so we didn't really think much of it. As we were getting into the car to leave I got a call on my cell phone from Jason. "Hello?" "Hey", he replied somberly "Have you heard?" "Heard what?" I replied. "The World Trade Center is gone." "WHAT?!? What do you mean gone?" I said in confusion. "Gone, completely destroyed." he responded. "I'll be home in a minute." I hung up the phone and relayed the message to Jenny in disbelief. A sense of panic started to come over me. What is going on?

When Jenny graduated from college in May of 2000, she decided to move to New York City for a year to pursue her life long passion of Fashion Design. She enrolled at Parson's School of Design and much to my parents dismay, moved off to the big city to follow her dream. She and my mom had been busy unpacking in the two bedroom apartment that Jenny and her 3 college friends had rented on 57th and 10th street. They were getting tired so she and Jen decided to call it a night. The noise of the streets that intersected at their building was like sleeping in the middle of the road. It took a while before they could fall asleep. Just as they had nodded off they were rattled by the sound of Arab music blaring through the room. It sent chills through them as they sat up in their beds. The sound was deeply disturbing to their spirits; it was as if the music was omitting an evil presence. At this the Lord spoke to my mom and told her to pray that there would not be a terrorist attack on New York City while Jenny was there. This seemed like a strange command, but from that moment on, she did just that.

Just before Jenny was to graduate from Parsons, mom and I went to visit for a week. On this particular trip we decided to have dinner at a club on the top floor of tower 2 of the World Trade Center. After the cab dropped us off we rode up the escalators to the elevator area. The trip up was so high that our ears were popping. The evening was spent watching people out on the dance floor while nibbling on our dinners. I'm terribly afraid of heights, but wanted to see just how high one of the tallest buildings in the world really was. I started to get weak in the knees as I cautiously walked over to the floor to ceiling windows that lined the room. I couldn't stand on the very edge. It was just too much for me. As the night came to a close we made our way back out to the elevator area to wait for our ride down. As I browsed the souvenir items they had available for purchase, I started to feel increasingly nervous. I had a very real sense that the building was going to collapse and that we needed to get out now. I pushed the feelings aside and tried to stay calm. How ridicules, I thought to myself.

Now, just a two months later, as we entered the house that morning, we found Jason on the phone with his family and the TV already on. I just sat down on the couch and couldn't believe what was unfolding before my eyes. It was all replay because everything had already happened. It was as if I was watching a horror movie...it was the most devastating thing I had ever witnessed. Watching two planes hit and explode on contact, seeing desperate people jumping from a building I couldn't even walk to the edge of, watching these national landmarks crumble to nothing, it was all more than I could bare. So many questions filled my head with fear and dread. What is this world coming to? What will happen now? What kind of world will my children live in? Do I even want to have children now? Is this the beginning of the end? The impact on my soul was deep.

I didn't sleep well at all that night. I just cried. I wanted to be in my own bed, I wanted to just watch HGTV and forget it all happened, but neither was possible. HGTV was off the air and I was back at my sister-in-laws for the night. I woke up the next morning with the same sense of dread as I realized it wasn't a bad dream. I think for at least a week I walked around like a zombie, not really sure what to do or think. I wanted so badly to know what God knew. To understand what it all meant and to have all the answers. But even He seemed silent in that moment.

Weeks passed, then months. Things were starting to feel familiar again. The flags were raised to full mass, planes were back in the sky and the nightly news actually covered other topics for a few minutes. Slowly the fear and dread were fading away. I saw glimmers of hope that life as I knew it may not be so far gone. One evening with some friends and family, we looked back on the day that was September 11th. It was the first time mom shared the story of the rude awakening she had that night in New York City. Everyone sat listening intently as she recalled the event. I just happened to ask if she remembered the date. "Humm...let's see, we got there on the 10th." she concluded. We all looked at each other in stunned amazement as all at once we discovered that the night she was awaken with the call to pray over the city was the 11th - September 11th, 2000.

"Be still and know that I am God." Ps 46:10