Nine Eleven (911) Poem by Curtis Johnson

Nine Eleven
By Curtis Johnson

I did not have any exposure to news on the morning of 911 until I entered my truck to go to work.
The Radio 1530 am news station in Sacramento was my primary news source, and when I turned it on, at least one plane had already crashed the tower. I was a bit dazed by it all, not clear about what was really happening. A few minutes later I was driving past the air field of the McClellan Air Force Base. One look in that direction verified the new orders about no plane was to take to the air.

I arrived at work to learn that “Yes”, we would work that day, but our normal end of the day runs to the airport would be curtailed. All the routes would have to come straight to the yard, because all the planes across the nation were being grounded. The day before, I had just turned 52, and 911 had to be the most terrorizing day in America during my life time. I was not afraid personally, because I was not affected directly in a violent way. But to realize the pain of all the families of the people that were killed was heart breaking. So I wept and prayed for those who wept.

I have never written about that day until now, and I don’t really know where to start or how to finish. I will simply relate two observations relative to what I experienced on September 11,2001. I am grateful for the fact that our pastor and church immediately called for a prayer meeting the night of 911. I remember getting off work and going to that prayer meeting after dinner with my family. It was not difficult at a time like that to convince people that we needed God, not only for future protection of the unknown, but we needed him “now” to get through such a major tragedy.
A nation shaking calamity had drawn America to its knees, and we all pulled together and toward God. Personally, my day and the day of millions of Americans had begun with our eyes and ears glued to radios and television sets. That same day was ending with our eyes and ears tuned toward God on bended knees.

The military wall of the strongest nation on earth had been breached, and an enemy had done the unthinkable. Two of the tallest buildings in America had been brought down without a single missile. A large section of the Pentagon, the hub of the Defense Department, had been destroyed without a single act of defense. Were it not for the bravery and quick thinking maneuvers by passengers in a fourth terrorist occupied plane, the White House of The United States of America would have been toppled.

My second observation is one that can not be quantified or measured in the usual sense, because it relates to the mood of the people that I encountered throughout that day. With or without words, there was something I felt whether it was the person I passed on the street or the motorist I saw on the freeway. There was a somber spirit and a sense of unity that said, “We are in this together”. Would to God that we didn’t have to have a catastrophic event to make us kneel before God and feel brotherly love toward one another.

Thirteen 911’s have come and gone since the twin towers fell, and the fourteenth 911 is approaching midnight as I write this piece at 10: 57 pm Pacific Time. It appears that our nation has drifted away from God over the last 14 years since devastating terror struck our country. Nevertheless, God has not given up on America, and neither shall I. As are many others, my knees remain bowed to God for America. May He forever cause His grace to be shed on us.
Cj09112015 11: 04 PM Sac., Ca.