He told me to watch the news. I turned the TV on, as so many did, just as the second plane was hitting.
I watched and moaned in horror as debris and bodies flew out the other side of that building... as smoke started filling the sky I rocked and groaned "Dear Jesus, dear Jesus, dear Jesus..." At the age of seven, my oldest could barely grasp the significance of the tragedy; and of course, my three- and one-year-old were upset only because of my wailing.
"What's wrong, Mom? What's wrong?"
All I could think of were those thousands of souls perishing without a Savior.
I still remember where I was and what I was doing (sleeping) when Gayle called me to turn on the TV, just in time to see the 2nd plane hit. I'll never forget.
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