Today, i have been watching, between church services, television coverage of 9-11, then and now. Much of it was coverage I’ve never seen. I was away on a two day trip to Shipshewana, Indiana with a bunch of ladies from church. We’d just finished breakfast and were preparing to check out of our B & B to finish our trip with a day at the big flea market. I think someone had turned on the TV to quickly get some weather, which is how we found out our nation was under attack. We spent some time praying, and continued on, checking out and continuing our plans. Of course, we did not have televisions to watch after that, but all day at the market we did hear snippets of coverage when vendors had radios going. I saw the best in some that day, and the not so good in others. I saw people letting strangers use their cell phones to call family. But as we left town I also saw gas stations raise their gas prices to rediculous, gouging prices. Coming home, we drove through Flint, MI, the city where I had grown up. Driving past the area where Bishop Airport is was so eerie. You don’t know what you just take for granted as background noise that’s barely noticed until it’s not there at all. There was absolutely no air traffic. The silence was so strange. Arriving home to find the Blue Water Bridge, an international border, closed, even though expected, was just another reminder that things would be different now. Within 24 hours, my mom was calling asking that we come to Flint for the day. She wanted the family together, so we did. She said she wanted us to move home, she was scared about us living in a border city. Churches were filled after the attacks, patriotism was very high. Sadly, that is not the case anymore. So much has changed since then. We can’t just zip over the bridge for dinner, or to go to a park/petting zoo we liked, we have no passports, which are required now. Now that I think about it, I’m grateful that I wasn’t able to see the coverage as it happened. I do not have the image burned into my memory of watching people live, as it happened, make the choice between death from the fires, or death on the pavement below, and choosing to jump. I remember that while still in Shipshewana, after calling my own family, I called my friend Terri who at that time lived in New York, and whose husband worked at pne of the airports as an immigration inspector, because I was worried about them. She & I have never met in person, we met through a computer crafting group on the internet. Yet, we were good enough friends that I was compelled to check on them and be assured they were OK. Tney were. I’m lucky, I did not lose anyone that day. So very many were not so lucky. Ten years ago today, our nation was attacked, and I believe the fight to keep this kind of war outside of our borders, to fight them somewhere else so we won’t have to fit them here, is not going to end any time soon, if ever.