For Posterity's Sake

Because I wasn't religiously keeping a journal 5 years ago, I guess maybe I should let my posterity (as well as all those of you who are not my posterity but who are here reading this blog) in on what September 11, 2001 was like for me.

I was at Ricks College in September 2001. Wait, actually, in September 2001 it was BYU-Idaho (somewhat confusing at times, that transition was). On Tuesday mornings at 9:00 I had a young adult literature class. I'd usually leave my apartment to walk up to class shortly after 8:30. Usually at that time in the morning, everything was still calm and quiet, and September 11th was no exception. But though it was still quiet outside, something felt different. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but it might have had something to do with the fact that every living room window I passed had the same morning news channel blaring.

I arrived to class early and sat and read my book to kill time. Eventually more students started filing in, as well as did my teacher. Class started and my teacher started passing out copies of some article or other for us to read. It always amazed me to see her pass papers out to us because, you see, she was born with only one complete arm. Her right arm ended in a stubby little useless hand with pea-sized nubs for fingers at about where the elbow should have been. She finished passing out the articles and class was about to really begin when Ryan, the cute balding boy with the tiny glasses, came in late, apologized to us all, but asked if we could turn on the classroom TV because from what he gathered, some rather big news about the World Trade Center was being broadcast. My teacher, who like I said was amazing, agreed, but something wasn't hooked up right and we couldn't get any stations. So we all sat through class wondering what the heck Ryan had been talking about.

After class I walked over to the student center and joined about five thousand other students in front of the big screen TV outside the cafeteria. It was there that I watched the drama all unfold. I had time to kill until the 11:00 devotional, so I stayed for as long as I could stand it, which wasn't too long because I didn't have any Kleenex with me. I wandered away outside and noticed that the flag had been lowered to half-mast and I remember thinking that that seemed so appropriate and I was very glad that someone had thought to do that.

Because it was the first devotional of the year, President Bednar spoke. He acknowledged the sad events that were currently unfolding on the other side of the country by reading a statement from the First Presidency, and then he acknowledged the fact that, while it was indeed appropriate to mourn, we all needed to continue moving forward. And then he gave one of the best devotional talks I'd ever listened to. I walked away from the Hart Auditorium feeling much better than I did walking in.

It took time for me to fully realize the impact the events of that day would have on how I viewed the world. Part of this can be blamed on the fact that there was no TV in my apartment and I couldn't sit glued to CNN. (The same thing happened to me when Hurricane Katrina hit...because NPR was our only source of news at the time, Blake and I both didn't fully grasp the destruction it caused.) But I immediately understood that because of these events, things would somehow be different and frighteningly so. My roommate and I had several conversations in which we acknowledged to each other how fearful we were for the future. Well, I'm indeed pleased to say that, 5 years into that future, I'm not as scared as I was that September. Or maybe I am, only now I'm adjusted. Whichever it is, this is how things are now and the only thing we can do is keep moving forward.