17 Years

maxresdefaultOver the course of this blog, I’ve shared this story more than any other.

It was a beautiful morning in Upstate New York. We were living in Fort Edward, NY at the time.  I was pastoring a small Wesleyan church there.  We had gotten the girls on the bus.  Like I said, a beautiful blue sky, no humidity – just beautiful.  I was scheduled to go to work at Radio Shack later in the day – I worked 12 to 8 on Tuesdays.

On that morning, I had gone over to the office in the church to work on my message.  Just a little before 9, Pam came over and told me a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. I was thinking, “that’s strange.” My first thought was that it was a small plane and perhaps the weather was different 2-1/2 hours to the south.  I continued to work on my sermon, when Pam came back over and said a second plane crashed into the other tower.  Immediately, my thought was that is no accident, so I rushed over to see the news.

We sat there watching the events unfold before our very eyes…just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, it did.  I still will never forget holding James after hearing that the first tower fell.  Pam had gone up to get some lunch. After she got home, we ate and then I went to work.  We watched the coverage and tried to process it all.  I think for my generation, it was the equivalent to Pearl Harbor or the shooting of JFK.

Today we remember when the world stopped turning…

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