[at-l] So...

[lbooher at pure.net (Leslie Booher)]

I was visiting a hospitalized friend who had had a baby the day before.  The first plane had hit while I was driving there.  I saw some kind of stir at the nurses' station on my way in, but I didn't understand what it was.  When I went in her room, she and her husband were watching.  I don't remember the sequence of events, but I remember her saying in shock, "I'll bet they're taking the pictures of the Pentagon from Virginia."  I responded, "Yes, of course, the Pentagon is IN Virginia."  She had the most astounded expression.  There's something extra about the terrorism being in your own state.  

We don't have a television, but, when I got to the church to practice the organ, my husband and his secretary were at a neighbor's house watching her big-screen television, so I joined them.  After a couple of hours, we went back to the church to plan a prayer service for that night.  We called all the radio stations and such to get it publicized.  There was a good crowd for the service, and people sobbed when we sang the Navy Hymn (Eternal Father, Strong to Save).  One lady from the community really read David the riot act because we didn't sing "God, Bless America", but it's not a hymn, and it's not in our hymnal.  

Because we don't have television, we weren't bombarded with the pictures over and over, but NPR never let up.  And the newspapers!  There was a daily listing of which Virginians were killed in the Pentagon and in the WTC, with personal-type bios of them: "Sandra Schablonsky had left school early to care for her young son, but she'd started taking evening classes at the local community college.  Her teachers thought that she had a bright future."  That sort of thing.  Heart wrenching stuff.  

Our daughter was in Ireland, and they had special remembrances at the US Embassy: candlelight vigils, books to sign.  I saved the most immediate newspapers for her.  

anklebear