Late last week as I walked to the office from my garage, I stumbled across a tweet from StoryCorps about 9/11. I waited until I got to my desk before pulling the piece up.
Digging deeper, I learned that StoryCorps – the well loved and known folks who record stories about Americans by Americans from all walks of life – is undertaking to curate at least one story for each life that was lost 11 years ago today. Their 9/11 Initiative has already logged over 1200 pieces representing over 600 sons, daughters, friends, parents, neighbors, colleagues …
I’ve wrestled over the years how to spend the eleventh of September, how to remember it. On the eleventh of September in 2001 after I watched the second plane hit and both towers crumble on as the news cameras captured it alongside my coworkers less than half a mile down the road from Langley, I went home under that plane-less sky save for the fighter jet flyovers and watched CNN for almost 12 hours straight. I was transfixed trying to grapple with what happened, what was happening and what was to come.
Today when I woke up the DC morning felt so arrestingly similar to that terrible day, clear cloudless air slightly chilled, it took my breath. Through the welcome distractions of our preschool classroom open-house, inbox task lists, and a solo bedtime routine, I’ve had little chance to consider the indelible meaning today holds. Now at the end of the day, I’ve decided I’m going to honor those who lost and those who were lost by listening to their stories. After all, telling our story is one of the most universal human traits we share.
Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. philipians 4:5