Tag: 9-11

Dear Ravi,

You were but a twinkle in your Daddys’ eye when our world changed forever. Daddy and I had been married less than 5 weeks when planes crashed into the Twin Towers, the Pentagon, and a field in Pennsylvania. When we went to the airport to meet our wedding guests in early August, we had no idea that was the last time we would be able to greet people at the gates. Twenty-five years ago it was so easy to roam around the airport. You could meet people at the gate. You did not need a passport or a special ID. There were not guards everywhere. It was an age of innocence.

On the morning of 9/11, I had an early morning teacher meeting. While we were in the meeting the first plane hit the North Tower. We were happily oblivious. Coming out of the meeting the secretary was very upset about something, but I did not really pay her much mind. I had classes to teach, and she was a bit of a drama queen. I worked on the 3rd floor at Risen Christ School. We had one TV set for the entire middle school. My students had already seen the first plane hit the tower before leaving home and had rolled the TV into my classroom. I walked in the room in time to see the first tower fall. I felt visibly ill and sprinted for the restroom. A few of my students ran after me saying, “Mrs. Greenlee-Herndon, it’s okay, we made it better, we turned off the TV.” In that instant I realized my place was to comfort my students, but I knew that I could not make it better. My job for that morning was to provide comfort for 25 middle school students. We banished the TV into the hallway and did an impromptu prayer. Occasionally, throughout the day my students would ask if we could watch TV again and my answer was always the same, “No, but we can pray.” Thank heavens I worked in a parochial school where prayer was welcomed. We prayed as a class, and we prayed as a middle school. No teaching got done that week. My students were scared. Many of them had parents who worked in high rises in downtown Minneapolis and were worried that planes would come to Minnesota next. I felt their fear. That night, I had graduate school. I went to school out of habit. On my way there I saw many churches open and people streaming inside. My graduate school was the University of St. Thomas. That semester our class was taught by two amazing Sisters. Only half of the class showed up. The Sisters did not think that teaching was appropriate that night, either. We joined them in prayer and in mourning, then I drove home in a daze to sit with Daddy and wonder what would happen next.

As you know, we live under the flight pattern for the MSP airport. All planes were grounded and the silence that lasted for days was eerie. The skies were empty. Loud noises made everyone jump. The entire country was grieving and on edge. As I drove to work the following morning, I saw American flags flying everywhere. What made me sad was when I drove down Lake Street, a multiethnic street that I love, there was not a soul to be seen. Usually, there were always women in hijabs out shopping for the day or men going to the mosque. The silence was deafening. It was a relief to get to school and hear the chatter of voices. I don’t think I taught anything that week, I don’t think any of the staff did. Our job was to comfort our children, to pray with them and encourage them.

Twenty-five years later I sit here with my memories. I remember and honor the brave fire fighters who rushed into the Towers without a thought for their own safety. I think of the workers in the towers who sacrificed their lives so their co-workers could get out. I think of the brave crew and passengers of flight 93 who made a valiant attempt to take the plane back from the high jackers. I think of the thousands of lives that we lost day that and the people who never got to return home that night. I think of the first responders who bravely dug through the rubble, looking vainly for any sign of life. We did not know then that many of them would later die of cancer from the toxic fumes that they inhaled, or that they would have to fight so hard for money for the disabilities that they incurred.

So, Ravi my love, I sit here on the bright blue morning and clearly remember a different bright blue morning when our world turned upside down. I am glad that this is not one of your memories. I grieve for you and for all who were lost on that fateful day. I believe that you and all of these brave souls are running free and healthy in heaven. I love you forever, Mom.