Every generation has one – One of those days that is frozen in time, and stays with you forever. It becomes a kind of conversation starter. You find yourself standing next to someone in a social situation, and before you know it they ask, “Where were you when …”
For my Grandparents, it was “Where were you when they announced the end of the War?” For their children it was “Where were you when President Kennedy was shot?” That was the day of my Aunt Bobbe’s 16th birthday party. It did not turn out to be much of a birthday that year.
I had heard this questioned asked growing up, and I was always fascinated by the answers. It impresses me that each person knew exactly where they were, what they were doing, and could tell you exactly how they felt even decades later.
I would have thought mine would come later, but, just as for my Aunt, I was 16. I was a Junior in High School in Odessa, Texas. That morning, there was an assembly in our gymnasium. All 2,100 students and all the staff were in attendance. I remember watching on the giant screens as the engines were lit, and remember watching as the great vehicle roared to life. We watched the smoke bellow below it, and all spoke together as we listened to the countdown – 10…9…8…7… The Space Shuttle rose toward heaven amidst our hoots, cheers, and clapping. Then, all of the sudden, flames! Smoke! The Challenger, was gone! There was a silence, the heaviest silence I have ever heard. Time was suspended, and the silence remained unbroken for several minutes until we started to gasp, to scream, and to cry. I will never forget that feeling.
I am an adult now, and have my own children. I had often wondered what my daughter’s moment would be. She is 11, and hers has already happened. She was just five years old, and in Kindergarten. It was September, just a few weeks into the school year. A day that seemed like any other. A day that would change the world forever. It was the morning of September, 11th. She still remembers how afraid everyone was. She still remembers not understanding what was going on, but knowing something terrible had happened.
I reflect on this now as we come upon the 6th anniversary of the attacks. I wonder about what our future has in store for us. I wonder what will happen next. I have two boys, who are four and six years old. What great or tragic events will fill their lives? When they grow up, and find themselves in a social situation, who will ask them “Where were you when…” and what will their answer be?
For my Grandparents, it was “Where were you when they announced the end of the War?” For their children it was “Where were you when President Kennedy was shot?” That was the day of my Aunt Bobbe’s 16th birthday party. It did not turn out to be much of a birthday that year.
I had heard this questioned asked growing up, and I was always fascinated by the answers. It impresses me that each person knew exactly where they were, what they were doing, and could tell you exactly how they felt even decades later.
I would have thought mine would come later, but, just as for my Aunt, I was 16. I was a Junior in High School in Odessa, Texas. That morning, there was an assembly in our gymnasium. All 2,100 students and all the staff were in attendance. I remember watching on the giant screens as the engines were lit, and remember watching as the great vehicle roared to life. We watched the smoke bellow below it, and all spoke together as we listened to the countdown – 10…9…8…7… The Space Shuttle rose toward heaven amidst our hoots, cheers, and clapping. Then, all of the sudden, flames! Smoke! The Challenger, was gone! There was a silence, the heaviest silence I have ever heard. Time was suspended, and the silence remained unbroken for several minutes until we started to gasp, to scream, and to cry. I will never forget that feeling.
I am an adult now, and have my own children. I had often wondered what my daughter’s moment would be. She is 11, and hers has already happened. She was just five years old, and in Kindergarten. It was September, just a few weeks into the school year. A day that seemed like any other. A day that would change the world forever. It was the morning of September, 11th. She still remembers how afraid everyone was. She still remembers not understanding what was going on, but knowing something terrible had happened.
I reflect on this now as we come upon the 6th anniversary of the attacks. I wonder about what our future has in store for us. I wonder what will happen next. I have two boys, who are four and six years old. What great or tragic events will fill their lives? When they grow up, and find themselves in a social situation, who will ask them “Where were you when…” and what will their answer be?
I cannot even imagine.
1 comment:
It's hard to believe that our lives seemed to be marked with disasters. They so easily stick out in our minds; would that it be happiness or great discoveries that we used to mark the passage of time. Hopefully your boys and my children will recall where they were when our troops are home safe and sound, or when our economy once again comes around to where people can make a decent living. Or maybe they will be the reason behind the triumphs. That's all we can hope for...
Anyway... Take care.
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