A Silent Unmarked Sky

I didn't have the television on that morning. It was a school day. A rushed morning. I had my senior citizen bible class right after the girls went to school so there wasn't time. The class wasn't designated for seniors. I just liked to call it that because I was the only person under the age of sixty who attended.  I was in my car and turned on the radio. It was set to a hard rock station that featured an obnoxious and inappropriate morning team and I reached to change the station feeling that it wasn't the right way to approach my bible study class. Before I could change it though I realized their voices seemed different. It wasn't the usual snide banter. They were being serious. They were being outraged. The word terrorist was used. Something had happened. I wasn't clear on just what.  They used the word pray. I knew it was bad.

When I reached my class a few of the older couples were there looking grave and troubled. The class leader filled me in on what had happened so far. Planes had been flown into The World Trade Center in New York.   Another couple arrived. Bustling in, the man updated us that the Pentagon had also been hit and they feared another plane might be headed for Washington. The old men were quiet. Their faces haunted but unafraid. They were all war veterans. Unlike myself they had seen things similar to this before. They understood the gravity but were very matter of fact in the telling. The appeared troubled but not panicked. They simply came from the generation that was taught strength at an early age. Tragedy no stranger. Chaos no mystery. They had been there before. We prayed that day. In our little room at the back of the church we were cut off from society and for that hour did not know what was happening.
 But we prayed.

When I got home I walked directly to my TV and turned it on. Another plane had crashed in Pennsylvania.
I was hundreds of miles away. I did not know anyone who was personally involved in this massacre. It had no direct affect on me, my life or my loved ones. But it did. It did for us all. Because our people are our extended family in this nation. Though we bicker and fight and call each other names and sometimes refuse to listen to each other and speak to each other, we are, We The People of the United States of America. And someone had hurt our own.

We grieve. We are strong. We rebuild. We will remember. Where we were. Who they were.

In the days following I would look up and see something I had never seen in my lifetime. A clear and unmarked expanse of blue sky. No tic tac toe drawn in cloudy white across the skies. The skies of my grandparents. It was surreal. I could strain my ears as hard as I could for hours and never hear even the faintest rumble wafting off in the clouds. I knew that if I did it would be a harbinger of death.
It was beauty dearly payed for. Something I am glad I saw and that I hope I never see again in my life.
The first feathered white line I saw brought both relief and dismay.

I was hundreds of miles away. I did not know anyone who was personally involved.
Everyone I know was personally affected.
Ten years later when I see those scars on the sky it is still like reaching to feel the scars of an old wound.
To this day if I see a small plane that seems to be out of place I follow it's progress in the sky.
When I hear the sound of a jet passing low I cringe.

My thoughts and prayers for the people and heroes that were lost on that day and for their families and our first responder survivors.  Peace be with you.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved By Ms. G.