Where Were You?

There are millions of words and images everywhere this weekend as we mark the tenth anniversary of the September 11^th attacks, and I hesitate to add more to them but will, in order to ask a question.

Where were you when it happened? My story is unusual because I was on an airplane, flying from Detroit to Indianapolis. The plane did a 180 degree turn and the pilot came on the intercom and told us we were returning to Detroit because of an “air traffic control event” and that all planes were being ordered to the ground. I couldn’t imagine what that could possibly mean and wondered if he was lying to us because there was something seriously wrong with our plane. Before long someone used a cell phone (which, of course, they weren’t supposed to be doing on a plane) and told us that two airplanes had crashed into the World Trade Center and another into the Pentagon. I remember someone on the plane angrily saying, “What’s that got to do with Indianapolis.” I wonder if that person remembers saying that. I bet they’d like a “do-over” of that moment. Getting a rental car amid the chaos of the Detroit airport was surreal, and then I still had to drive to Indianapolis. There were bizarre scenes along the way – there were lines at gas stations of people who figured World War III was starting and some gas stations tripled and quadrupled their prices. I also remember pulling off the highway in Anderson, Indiana and passing the “Hoosier Girls” strip club that had a sign out front that said “Pray for America.” I’d never really thought much about the relationship of strip clubs and prayer before that moment. I finally got to Indianapolis eight or nine hours later than I was supposed to, and only then did I see the video of the towers in New York falling and start to really absorb the devastation that had happened. Where were you?