When The World Stopped Turning

Tuesday, September 11, 2001 got off to an annoying start. Beyond a shadow of a doubt Big Lug was sick with the flu including being feverish, stuffed up, achy, nauseous, and tired. I was some what irritated because I knew he’d be sick like this for a solid week. I decided to break my self-imposed rule of not getting online and see if any of my stock car friends were having a miserable morning.

When I first saw a thread titled “Planes crashes into World Trade Centre” I innocently assumed it was a Cessna or something and didn’t pay any attention. When a similar one appeared, however, I did look. That’s how I found out life as I knew it would be turned upside down. As I read, I felt both sorrow and rage. Sorrow for my American friends and rage that someone would be doing this to America. I phoned the newsline of Country 105 to ask if they had received any information. I couldn’t believe there wasn’t any mention of what was going on. Since it hadn’t been received off the official news “ticker”, they had no way of knowing if it was official. I did, however, start to suspect something was up when 7:15 a.m. passed and Beat The Bomb didn’t happen. By this time I had the T.V. on and was trying not to scream out WHY GOD?!

During the 7:30 a.m. news, I heard the newscaster say in a disdainful voice “Who cares about the game, America is under attack” That’s when full reality hit me. This had to be an attack on America, not just something random. When Big Lug asked me why I was leaving for work so late I told him that a couple of jets had crashed into the World Trade Centre and it was burning down. In his feverish state, what I said didn’t register on him and his reply was “That’s no excuse for being late to work.” While I was on the bus, my cellphone rang. It was my husband calling asking me why the Hell didn’t I tell him what was going on. Suddenly he being sick with the flu wasn’t such an imposition. Big Lug would spend the upcoming week watching CNN, trying to make sense of what happened.

The first way I brought a ray of sunshine to the lives of my American friends was when I announced the stranded country musicians were going to have a charity concert to raise money for the Red Cross. On Thursday, September 13th, 2001 there were no cameras to broadcast the concert live to the world. There was just a bunch of Canadian country musicians singing songs of hope and inspiration for America, with donation boxes circulating for the audience to put money in. I shared about the memorial tribute the Calgary Stampeders and Saskatchewan Roughriders held for America, with the Star Spangled Banner being sung as well as O’ Canada and again the donation boxes being made available for the American Red Cross. There was also Alberta Rides For America, a group of ranchers who got together to ride their horses from Alberta to the Montana border, raising money along the way for their neighbours who were going through troubled times.

I remember the soul searing pain I felt that someone could attack America and hurt my friends. I remember the rage I felt at a 60 year old co-worker who said “It’s just an American thing, this will all blow over by the end of the month. The Americans are being dramatic. It’s not like this will change the world.” When Kidlet is old enough to ask why I know so precisely when he was conceived, I’ll tell him about the day that changed the world.

Proverbs 11:12 He that is void of wisdom despises his neighbour, but a man of understanding holds his peace.