At 8 AM on September 11th, 2001, I sat in the ANTS Colby Chapel for the New Student Orientation “Call to Worship.” The Rev. Dr. Sharon Thornton, Professor of Pastoral Theology, welcomed all of us and began to share a story that united us, that had brought each of us to that very moment—a story about a devastated world that needed our help to put the broken pieces back together. On the floor in the center of the chapel lay a large mirror, shattered in a hundred pieces, a piercing image of the pain we all sought to free the world of. Why else come here, study theology, philosophy, pastoral care? We were united by a cause—to change the world, one heart at a time.
At the conclusion of the service, I walked over and embraced Sharon, one of the many professors I supported as Faculty Secretary. With a deep sigh as I stepped backward, I said, “I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this day.”
“You have!” she replied, with a smile as wide as mine. She knew my story. And she was so right. I thought back to that day, just five years before, when I came to ANTS for the first time. I had presented Bishop Tom with my book of poetry. A few days later we sat down to talk about it. He said, “You should consider ordination, or for sure go to seminary”…words that now echoed in my heart with satisfaction and fulfillment.
Now 9:00 AM, the crowd headed up to Worcester Hall for the first set of welcoming speeches from various staff and faculty. I stopped next door in Dabney Hall to greet fellow coworkers and pick up the interoffice mail (I was technically still on the clock!). I leaned my head in the doorway to say hello, and I saw the ladies gathered by their radio. One of them leaned back towards me and whispered, “It sounds like a plane hit the World Trade Center. Must be a Cessna or something.”
That’s weird, I thought, as I turned out of the room and walked through the passageway connecting Dabney with Worcester Hall’s basement level. I flew upstairs, dropped the mail in my office and quickly rejoined the other new students downstairs in Peck Conference Room, where they were already seated. The Dean of Students stood up at the podium about to begin. He looked pale, sweaty…dumbfounded…
After introducing himself, the Dean announced, “We have learned that a large airliner has hit one of the towers of the World Trade Center. It appears to have been hijacked, and…” He was interrupted by a staff member whispering more news in his ear.
He continued, “It appears another plane has hit the other tower. We’ve been monitoring the situation, which could be an act of terrorism. We don’t know whether we should continue with your orientation as scheduled, since right now nothing is really known or can be done from here.”
A student instantly stood up and requested that we pray immediately, so the Dean led us in a short prayer. Then another student insisted we conclude the day’s plans so we can check on loved ones, etc. Then I stood up, introduced myself as the Faculty Secretary, and offered the use of two phones in my office. Then we were dismissed.
There was no time to think or react. Scared, worried, praying for the safety of friends and family in and near New York, I called K from my office, while another student used the other phone. He told me that another plane had hit the Pentagon. This is terribly wrong. What do I do now? What do we do?
There was only one public television on campus with cable. I had to go there. To Sturtevant Hall.
K said he was leaving work and would meet me there. As I walked across campus, I called my aunt on my cell phone to make sure my uncle who frequently made deliveries in New York was safe. All was well. One quick breath of relief. But my best friend from college, “Nicole,” who worked right near the Trade Center, didn’t answer her phone. Lord, what is going on?
Everyone was crowding into the Student Lounge. I found a spot on the floor in front of the television…just in time…to watch the South Tower of the World Trade Center collapse at 9:59.
For a second, I laughed. Out loud. Oh Lord, what’s wrong with me?! I’m so embarrassed!
We all had them. Those ironic, nervous reactions. Some immediately found tears. Most of us stared in disbelief—thoughtless, emotionless, static, despondent. Is this really happening? Is this in the United States? No, this is some movie, right? Something, anything but…this?
K came in and quietly sat beside me. It was 10:28 AM. The North Tower collapsed.
In the same room in front of the same TV that I celebrated our golden nation’s great victory five years before, I now sat and began to weep watching our most painful tragedy unfold.
We stood still. “We.” Suddenly, it was “us” against “them.”
Or was it?
To be continued.
The Art of Choosing True Life 