9-11 and Birthdays

This is my 9-11 story, which is probably not so different from yours, except for the birthday.

Our youngest daughter was born on September 11, and in 2001 we were celebrating her 17^th birthday. We had a special breakfast with all the family that still lived at home—pancakes probably--then Mary headed off to school in her ancient Buick LaSabre. She had a bag full of candy to share with friends and was all smiles.

Paul and I didn’t have to teach until later that morning, so we left for a morning walk in the blue and green beauty of early Utah September chatting about plans for a family party that night. As we walked along the edge of our hill, admiring the view of Utah Lake and distant mountains, we heard someone’s TV blaring through their open door. Annoyed, we said, “Why do they have the volume up so loud?” Then we heard it. “airplane crashed . . .World Trade Center . . .”

We raced home and yelled to our college son as we entered the house: “Turn on the TV! Something awful has happened.”

We were just in time to see the second plane crash into the tower.

With all the rest of the country, we watched that crash over and over, numb with shock.  We watched news reporters standing in sooty air trying to make sense of what made no sense. We learned of another airplane crash and attacks on the Pentagon.

In the midst of this we went to campus and taught our classes, comforting distraught students.

Then we all came home, Mary with her bag still full of candy and eyes full of sorrow. “I just couldn’t talk about my birthday.”

We fixed Mary’s favorite foods, and my mother brought her delicious chocolate layer cake on the blue china “birthday plate.” The married daughters came home with their husbands, and the college sons too. But the celebration was subdued, and as soon as the candles had been blown out and presents opened, we all were back in front of the TV.

But before we left the table, I made an awkward toast—to Mary, and to all the other good and smart young people who will contribute to making the world a safer, happier, better place.

Every September 11 since that day, I feel the same gratitude. Yes, horrible things have happened, are happening, will happen. But at the same time—just as our nation mourns on September 11 at the same time our family celebrates —there are also good things happening. Those good things come about because of all the good people who are working hard to make the world a better place. As we mourn the tragedies of the world, let us never forget to also celebrate the many triumphs.