September 11....Never Forget

Where were you on 9/11? I'd love to hear your stories. Here's mine. I was serving a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, in London England. It was around 2:00 in the afternoon and my companion, an Aussie named Sister Candice Bailey, and I went to teach a family. When we got there, the gal was in her home, watching t.v. I could see the WTC towers and that one was on fire. I asked what happened. As a missionary, we have no t.v., radio, etc., so I had no way of knowing anything. She told me that an airplane hit the WTC, but she was just mad that they interrupted her soap opera for it. I asked what kind of airplane, and she said she thought it was a little one. I just figured that it must have been some pilot in a Cessna that somehow lost control of his plane and that was all there was to it.

We started to teach our discussion, but I couldn't take my eyes of the t.v. screen. I think my Aussie comp. was a little annoyed with me because I was not paying attention at all, not to mention that t.v. is against the rules. I couldn't help it. Just then, I saw the second plane hit. Now I knew that this was more than a little Cessna. Kudos to Candice for teaching that discussion all on her own because I couldn't take my eyes off the t.v. After an hour or so visit, I had watched the towers collapse and watched Pres. Bush at a Florida classroom receive word of this. I then read the headlines streaming across the bottom that this was thought to be a terrorist attack.

After the lesson was over, we left, and I was more confused and dazed than ever. We were in the tube (subway) station heading to catch a train back to our mission office when the line that we were meant to take had been shut down. There were announcements being broadcast over the speakers that all flights to the U.S. had been grounded and Heathrow and Gatwick airports were closed, and all tube lines to Heathrow were closed.

We got on another tube to head to the office and the newspapers were in full print. In London, they print papers about every two hours, especially if there was a news story. I read over everyone's shoulders that I could, I had never felt more homesick in my life. Here I was in a different country when something like this had happened at home. I was terrified. I saw the pics in the newspapers and I read stories such as Bin Laden was responsible (Bin who?), that the military was going to call up all Arabic speaking troops, etc., etc. I tried to fight back tears when I read about the Arabic speaking troops because at the time my bro. was in the nat'l guard in an Arabic speaking unit. I just knew that I may never see him again (fortunately for us, his unit was not called up, and he finished his time in the military before it ever was).

We arrived at the mission office where everyone was gathered around in a grave silence. Our mission president gave us very strict instructions that had come from Elder Ballard, who happened to be there in London and was now stuck there. Elder Ballard told us to remove our name badges. Do not speak in public so no one could hear our American accents. Go straight home and no proselyting. Do not speak to any of the Muslims. We were to remain in our flats for one week. Those missionaries who lived in densely Muslim areas would stay with us (since our flat was only surrounded by two mosques, I guess we were safer..). On the way home, I walked down Edgeware street to catch a bus to our flat. It was mayhem. This is a highly Muslim part of the city and they were celebrating in the street, screaming praises to Allah, kill the Americans, and jumping on the American flag.

My companion and I were petrified with fear. What if they discovered that we were American? What if they found out we were Christian? We ducked our heads and walked as fast as possible and somehow made it home safely. We learned later that day that a third plane had hit the Pentagon. It wasn't until much later that I had even heard of the 4th plane going down in PA. On the way home, the newspaper headlines now said, "Call home, you're going to die!" Apparently the terrorists had allowed the hi-jacked passengers to phone their loved ones. Another headline later told of people trapped in the rubble of the WTC, but still calling on their cell phones for help. This would be to no avail, they couldn't be gotten to.

In our flat, we all huddled together and prayed. We wrote letters home. We did anything possible, but we were now cut off from the world. No news, hunkering down for our safety. We were a week away from any news from our families as we were not allowed to call them if they weren't in harm's way, which mine weren't. Now we just sat and waited.

Once we were allowed out of our flats, the rules had become far more stringent. We were no longer allowed to tract or street contact. We were restricted on what neighborhoods we could be in. London became a different city overnight. In a country where firearms are not permitted, suddenly every police officer carried a rifle and walked up and down the streets, tubes, and everywhere with them, even Burger King. The police force had visibly increased to about triple, each wearing a bright yellow vest and a rifle. The streets were quiet, everyone was waiting for an attack on London. But it didn't come, not that year anyway.

That Sunday at church, another American was asked by the Bishop to say a few words and to tell his story. He'd been sent to London to work, but his home office was at the WTC. I watched this grown man break down in sobs as he explained how he was on a conference call to NY when one of the planes hit the tower where his co-workers were. He listened over the phone as they were killed. All 400 from his office died.

So, that's my story, now I'd love to hear yours! I finished my mission on October 15, 2001 and returned home after travelling with my parents in England and Europe. I had bought every newspaper that I could in London around those fateful days, but I never read them, due to the mission rules. I saved them for when I returned home, I pulled them out and learned about all of the grisly details of that fateful day. I still have those newspapers so that I will never forget.