September 5, 2007,
Acworth, GA. Today I awoke to fresh morning air as a welcome
breeze drifted through
my open window. Particles danced amongst the rays of sunlight
peaking through the crack in the bedroom drapes. I’ve always
enjoyed the serenity of morning, and I felt safe and secure in our
quiet suburban neighborhood northwest of Atlanta. I opened the
drapes to have a wide-open view from the second story. The
morning’s vivid blue skies were so clear and bright I was forced to
divert my eyes. Feeling of tranquility suddenly transformed to a
disturbing sense of angst. That same heavenly view was reminiscent
of the morning almost six years earlier. September 11, 2001, the
day Evil reared its ugly head and the horror of all Hell befell our
country—the infamous 9/11.
I turned away
from the view and tried to shake the unsettling thoughts, but when I
took the remote in hand and clicked on Fox’s Good Day Atlanta, there
was a sense of de ja vu. The phone rang just as it did that fateful
morning only today it was my husband, Carl, calling to say he loves
me. Hearing his voice and those words reinforced the fact that I am
a truly blessed woman.
I recalled that
unforgettable morning the distressed voice on the phone was that of
my friend, Carol, urging me to turn it over to Fox news!” The
sight on the screen left me speechless as I turned up the volume to
better hear the commentator. Carol’s excitement was understandable
now, as I watched and listened in shock, “At 8:46 a.m. eastern
standard time a plane crashed into the North Tower of New York’s
World Trade Center. We’re awaiting further details...” Carol and
I, along with the rest of the country surmised it was an accident,
and we could only imagine how frightening it was for the passengers
and the employees in the building. We wondered how they would ever
get that plane out of the building without causing further damage to
the Tower. We never ONCE doubted the integrity of the structure
itself. We had seen documentaries about how its construction was
built to withstand something like this. The World Trade Center
didn’t just belong to New York City or America. It was the
international financial hub, so it was designed by the best for
invincibility. Carl called on the other line to make sure I knew
what was going on and reaffirmed everything Carol and I had been
discussing about the building’s structural integrity.
By 9:00 every
person in America was glued to a television or radio, and while the
cameras were focused on the North Tower, at 9:03 another plane
crashed into the South Tower. It was evident—this was no
accident.
The next fear was
that aboard those planes there were bombs, canisters of deadly gas
or viral diseases or even Weapons of Mass Destruction. Within
minutes the Federal Aviation Administration shut down all New York
airports, and by 9:25 FAA had grounded all domestic flights
nationwide. My phones were ringing off the hook—both land lines
and both cell phone lines—Carl, our sons, Kenneth and Cory, my
sister, Pat, each of my brothers, friends, and Carol again. Somehow
we all felt safe and connected as long as we could hear one
another’s voices. Then the cell phone developed that irritating
fast busy signal and the land lines soon followed. The circuits
were jammed not only here but across the nation. Americans and
those around the world feared the worst for New York City residents
and those at the scene of the crashes. We just prayed the
firefighters could rescue as many as possible, and that they could
evacuate the maddening crowds of people from the area before
explosions from any potential deadly weapons onboard could further
devastate the city. Television reporters informed us the first
plane that crashed into the North Tower was American Airlines Flight
#11 a 747, the other was United Airlines Flight #175. Every person
knew this was no accident and all eyes were on New York City, our
prayers with its people.
Twenty minutes
later came the report that American flight #77 crashed into the
Pentagon, and twenty minutes after that we all watched in horror as
the South Tower collapsed in front of our eyes. The White House was
evacuated within minutes and the citizens of this country knew right
then, without doubt—our great nation was under attack. When the
section of the Pentagon collapsed, followed by the report of United
Flight #93 crashing into a Pennsylvania field after passengers
confronted hijackers, I was convinced the world had gone completely
mad. By 10:28 the collapse of the Trade Center’s North Tower
evidenced our world would never be the same, if indeed our world
survived at all. The United States of America was under attack and
the questions everyone asked were, “How did this happen?” “What’s
next?” “Who’s behind these travesties?” “Are we safe anywhere?”
The phone lines
remained jammed for a time that seemed forever, and as a woman at
home alone, I didn’t know where to turn. Should I get in my car and
drive to Atlanta to be with Carl? Or did he have the idea to come
home, and we would just wind up missing one another, altogether.
What about our sons? I didn’t budge from the television in hopes of
hearing some sort of instruction about what to do. Local news urged
residents to stay off the roads but traffic jams still sprung up
everywhere in Atlanta. Everyone wanted to be with their loved ones
if this were, indeed, the end of our time.
The sound of the
phone ringing was music to my ears, and I was relieved to hear
Carl’s voice on the other end. He reassured me that everything was
under control and not to worry. The CDC (Center for Disease
Control) is in Atlanta within only a few miles of Carl’s office.
The idea that these terrorists, could crash a plane into the CDC,
thus scattering deadly viruses and micro-organisms contained there
sent me into a deeper state of frantic. I begged Carl to come home
and be with me, and that I would call our sons to join us. He
reminded me that Dobbins Air Force Base in Marietta was a short
distance from our home, and urged me to calm down while assuring me
they were on top of everything.
Nonetheless,
frightening thoughts and fears of the worst magnitude continued to
run rampant through my mind, and then I heard the roar of fighter
jets overhead. I stepped outside to the deck, and the quiet
serenity of the September blue sky was shattered by the deafening of
the roaring jets—and yet a beautiful sight. It was unnerving while
at the same time it was comforting to know they were there, as I
said aloud, “Thank you, God!”
When the camera
panned the New York City’s famous skyline, they shared the same
clear blue sky as Georgia. The difference was their’s was engulfed
with black and grey-white smoke, surreal in contrast against their
vivid blue sky.
In retrospect, the
attacks on our country that horrific morning jolted our sense of
security as a nation. The much-needed Homeland Security was formed
and our security has tightened across the board at airports, large
and small, bus and train stations, our seaports and at events where
large groups gather. We have experienced other terrorist attempts
on our country, as well as other countries such as England and
Germany. We are at war with the terrorists, make no mistake about
it. The problem is in not knowing who and where they are. On
September 11, 2001 we Americans in this great nation of ours—The
United States of America—were attacked by our enemies. It was no
coincidence they hijacked planes from the two airlines that bear our
country’s name—United and American. They planned this on a date we
would all remember and bring an entirely new meaning to Emergency
911. We have been fighting this ugly battle against terror for
almost six years and many ask it it’s worth it. When will the
fighting end? The fighting will end when we can rest safely at
nights in our comfortable beds confident and without doubt that
we’re safe and secure in America.
Whenever I see
those magnificent jets and various other U.S. Air Force planes
against the sky during their periodic maneuvers, I thank God we
don’t have attacks on our home soil. I’m thankful I can get in my
car and drive from coast to coast without providing documents as
proof of citizenship. I’m thankful I can turn on my color
television, work/play on the computer, enjoy a warm home in the
winter and air conditioning in the summer. To enjoy all the modern
conveniences of electricity, gas, running water for bathing,
cooking, swimming, enjoy instant communication via phones, cell
phones, iPods—the list is endless—makes me proud to be an American
and know that I am free to be who, what and where I want to be.
The question
arises quite frequently whether this war and our presence in the
Middle East is necessary, or if we can afford to keep fighting with
no apparent end in sight. Is our freedom worth fighting for?
Before answering that question one should remember where he/she was
on September 11, 2001. Relive that day in his/her mind when we had
no warning or pre-determination where the next strike might be.
Experience the fear all over again—the same fear shared by every
living soul in America that day—when the serenity of our September
morning’s blue sky was shattered, along with our sense of safety and
security as a nation.
Darlene F. Wofford and her husband, Carl, will be
celebrating their 40th
wedding anniversary in June, 2007. Both Georgia natives
from Atlanta, they along with their sons have been
Cherokee County residents for over 30 years, and
currently reside in Acworth.
Darlene has been involved in the mortgage finance
industry since ’89, and she is Marketing Director for
Mortgage Consulting Services, Inc.. A Certified Image
Consultant, she is a member of the (AICI) Association of
Image Consultants International. and a graduate of the
highly acclaimed London Image Institute, where she is
Director of the Institute's Graduate Division. As an
author with her first novel, “Edgewise: An Assignment to
Remember,” recently released in ’07, she is a member of
the National Association of Women Writers and the
National Association of Baby Boomer Women. She is an
active member of Toastmasters International, which she
joined to develop her speaking skills and to become a
more effective communicator.
She states her mission as “making a positive difference
in the lives of others,” and further states that “the
more people’s lives I touch in a positive way, the more
positive my life becomes.”
