There are events in history that have such an impact on our lives, we remember where we were and what we were doing at the time they happen. Everyone (over the age of 50) remembers where they were when Kennedy was shot. (which by the way was exactly 40 years before Daniel was born)
I remember that I was home sick when the space shuttle Challenger went down.
I remember how shocked I was when Princess Diana was killed, and that I was upstairs standing next to the bathroom doorway at Grandpa's when mom told me. I never really followed the royal family, but it was a profound moment nonetheless.


On 9/11, I was 7 months pregnant with Shannon and I was at work. A coworker made an announcement over the loudspeaker to turn on the news, something important was happening. My coworker from the next module had just been talking about her plans to visit her brother in NYC that upcoming weekend. (tragically, she has since passed away about a year ago. But that's another sad story)
At first, the general feelings were of confusion, not panic. "I don't know, something about a crashed plane in a building." I imagined a little single engine plane in a remote warehouse.
I didn't even know exactly what the WTC was. Then people started to watch the footage and soon silent fear replaced speculation among us.
I went outside and looked up at the sky and real panic creeped up on me. I can't get hurt. I'm pregnant. Thank goodness this baby is safer in me right now. But what am I bringing it into?
Driving home, all I kept thinking was how out of control I felt as I kept checking the unusually empty skies.
And then, after returning home, I heard about our friends who were expecting their first baby too. He was born just a couple hours after the towers fell. Without sounding too melodramatic, it really was a beautiful thing amongst all the chaos happening around us.
Today is the day to pray for those lost and their families, but also to celebrate what we have and to be reminded not to take our blessings for granted.