This date will forever be etched in my memory. I believe it is to my generation what the assassination of JFK was to my parent's generation or the attack on Pearl Harbor to my grandparent's generation.
I remember everything about September 11th. I was on my way to school and I heard it on the radio. It seemed like some kind of crazy accident. It was not until I got to school that I would realized the great tragedy of the events that occurred. Who in the world would do something to our country? My mind asked all kinds of questions as I sat watching a row of tv screens. First, the Twin Towers, the Pentagon, and finally Pennsylvania. What was going on in my country where I had always felt so safe?
My first two classes were cancelled and I waited around for my noon class, not sure what to do. My older brother was in Florida for work with no way to return back to Ohio. His voice was definitely the most comforting that day. I was also concerned for my extremely pregnant sis-in-law, and later found out that she was staying at her parents house. I remember the feeling that I just needed to hear the voice of those people that I loved.
My last class of the day was Music Appreciation. My professor decided that we were not going to accomplish anything, so he let us go. My professor was also my piano teacher and that day was my day for a lesson. I went like normal, but without the focus and confidence that I usually possessed. I sat down at the piano and started to play. I have no idea what I played but I played for over an hour. Occasionally, my teacher would play along with me and sometimes he would just sit there. He gave no corrections or suggestions. He just let me play. I had never played with such power and emotion. I was looking for something good to come out of this horrible day and for me, it was music.
I was thinking about Job last week. His story in the Bible intrigues me everytime I read it. In the first chapter after he has lost everything, he fell to the ground and worshipped. I had the opportunity to do that on September 11, 2001. The music I played had nothing to do with me. It was my act of worship.