(Crossposted at The West Virginia Examiner and Conversations with Myself)

I don’t mean to call it obligatory to demean the day. The opposite really. I just know that everyone with a blog, Facebook, or Twitter is telling their “Where I was” story.

I have every confidence in my ability with the written word. However, I’m questioning what more I can add to the great electronic conversation this day.

But since not everyone is like me, then no one can see that day as I did, so I will attempt to convey my thoughts at the time.

It was 8:46 a.m. that Sept. 11, 2009. I had started my first semester at Ohio Valley College (now Ohio Valley University) in Vienna, W.Va. I dropped out at the end of the third semester and never went back to school, but I do have fond memories of my time at OVC.

OVC is a four-year liberal studies private university affiliated with the Churches of Christ. Meaning we have to take Bible courses and go to chapel. Of course I didn’t mind those things, despite being the one of three pentecostals on campus.

I was going to my Bible course the morning of 9/11. It started at 9 a.m. and I was early. I always liked to be 15 minutes early for class, so I was there at 8:45 a.m.

The first plane hit at 8:46 a.m.

I didn’t have a clue. Not even students coming in after 8:46 a.m. gave any clue that they knew. It wasn’t until Prof. Colgrove came into the room shortly before 9 a.m. to alert us that a plane had hit the World Trade Center. He assumed it was an accident, much like the World War II bomber that crashed into the Empire State Building in the late 1940s. Nonetheless, he seemed to understand there was some history happening and thought we ought to cancel class and go to the student center, where there was a big screen TV.

We walked in just in time to watch as the second plane hit the second tower.

Gasps, shouts, mouths open, eyes wide.

What are we witnessing?

We still didn’t know it was an attack, but it seemed darned obvious that it wasn’t an accident. We continued to watch, until I decided to call Dad.

Dad has a hobby; if any big news is happening, he records the news to a VHS tape. In fact, we have, literally, the entire first Gulf War on tape. 15 tapes of newscasts from CNN, NBC, CBS, etc. It played a large roll in me becoming a news reporter.

So I ran to my dorm and called him to ask if he was rolling tape of the towers.

“No, the Pentegon was attacked and I’m taping that.”

That’s when I knew, finally, that it was an attack.

After some time passed that day, prayer vigils had been hastily organized and everyone was praying and staying close. I was dating a girl at the time who wanted me to cuddle with her. When I explained I wanted to be with the student body as more news came in, she said “who cares?”

I promptly broke up with her. I can’t abide that kind of attitude.

Finally the afternoon came and I needed to get out. It was such a surreal day, I needed to do something normal in order to recapture normalcy. I had originally planned to get a haircut, so I went downtown to the mall only to find everything but Walmart shut down. I went there for my haircut, and as soon as I walked out they began shutting down as well. The entire community was at a stand still.

Those are my memories.

A year later the college put on a tribute to 9/11 for chapel. As newspaper editor I was asked to speak on the topic of those who had jumped from the towers.

I had no idea such a thing happened at all. I was shown the pictures and was horrified. I wish I could remember the words I used to convey such imagery. All I remember was starting to cry.

One thing that annoyed me at the time. A young lady had left Parkersburg, W.Va. to work in New York City, eventually working at the WTC. She perished that day.

Her family should always remember and always mourn their loss. However, the city latched onto her death as an excuse to put up billboards and try to use her death as publicity. It still goes on every year and it still bugs me. 9/11 effected us all, but just because one former resident died in that attack does not give the city the right to essentially say “Look at us, we were effected more than you because a woman who hasn’t lived in this city for years died in the towers.”

It’s inappropriate.

There are ways to remember that day. One way is to attend a 9/12 event.

9/11 was a day to remember and mourn. 9/12 is a day to remember and celebrate. We remember the people we became after the attack; more unified, less partisan. We were Americans.

Tomorrow we come together to celebrate American values; values of freedom, liberty, and the right to live our lives as we see fit, as long as they don’t infringe on others.

I’ll be covering the 9/12 event in Parkersburg, W.Va., at noon for The West Virginia Examiner and West Virginia Watchdog. I’ll also be helping my Dad out, who volunteered his P.A. system to the event. He’ll be one of the speakers – talking about his experiences as a U.S. Marine – and also singing some patriotic tunes.

It makes me proud that we can both participate in this. Of the two of us I’m the more politically active, but he has always been involved in veterans events as a sing, speaker, and organizer. This time we get to do it together.

So remember the fallen today. Remember who we are tomorrow.

Now, I leave you with the thoughts of Allahpundit, care of Andy Levy:

“Eight years ago, I remember opening my eyes at 8:46 a.m. in my downtown Manhattan apartment because……I thought a truck had crashed in the street outside

I remember pacing my apartment for the next 15 minutes thinking, stupidly, that a gas line might have been hit in the North Tower…

…and then I heard another explosion. I hope no one ever hears anything like it.

All I can say to describe it is: Imagine the sound of thousands of Americans screaming on a city street

It was unbelievable, almost literally

I remember being on the sidewalk and there was an FBI agent saying he was cordoning off the street…

…and then, the next day, when I went back for my cats, they told me I might see bodies lying in front of my apartment building (I didn’t)

We held a memorial service in October for my cousin’s husband, who was “missing” but not really…

He worked for Cantor Fitzgerald. They found a piece of his ribcage in the rubble not too long afterwards.

This is the guy who conspired to murder him: http://is.gd/38h7y”

The Greenroom » Forum Archive » Quotes of the day: Remembering 9/11/01

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