A Day Remembered

I posted this on a blog I do for work -- thought it was appropriate to copy and pasted here.

Pearl Harbor Day in December is a day that will always "live in infamy" for Americans. But there are those out there who can't remember the exact day the Japanese invaded.

Dec. 7, 1941 -- for anyone who's wondering.

But we just passed another date on the calendar that also is infamous, and I'd daresay that every American remembers it.

Our memories fade with time for most things. For example, I can't tell you what I got on my fifth birthday, but I'm pretty sure at the time I was pretty excited about it.

But memories such as Sept. 11, 2001 never fade. I can remember exactly what I did that morning, where I was at when the news was breaking, what I was doing throughout the entire day.

Sept. 11, 2001 affected the ETBU campus as it did everywhere they day. The world was forever changed because of it. I remember running late, as was normally the case in those days with a four-year-old and two-year-old in the house. But if I hadn't been running late, I would have missed the news on the radio.

I, like most sports fans, am hooked on talk radio. I don't hardly ever agree with what's been said on sports talk shows, but I listen nonetheless. I was listening to a local sports talk show that morning, and when I turned on the radio I knew something was happening -- because the host wasn't talking.

He was ooing and aaahing, and later I guessed he was watching a TV set. It was about this time that the first plane was crashing into the World Trade Center North Tower (yes, I can remember the North was the first tower hit because I thought it incredulous that the South Tower could be hit second and yet be the first to collapse, later. I have never forgotten that.)

It was then that I knew something bad was happening. I got to the office and immediately went down to the Communications Services department. Back then, I was still officially in the Athletic Department on campus, but would be shifted over to Public Relations, which is now an arm of the Enrollment and Marketing division here at ETBU.

But Communications Services back then was, effectively, the PR department. For those who don't know, the Communications Services/PR offices used to be in what is now Carlile-Howell Fieldhouse, but as part of the renovation of that building for football, was housed in the new Herrington Service Center with our Physical Facilities department. The office is now used by ETBU's IT department, and we are now on the third floor of Marshall Hall.

But back to the memories. I went down to Communications Services because I knew my good friend and then-Director of Communications Services, Mark Dimmitt, would know what was going on. Mark is a former member of the Air Force and had a radio and TV on in his office, as all good PR and news folks do. I watched a little of the carnage there and then stopped by Dean Healthplex on my way to my old office -- in the new football field house.

There was a huge crowd standing around the TV in the Healthplex, and I realized it was one of those days where everyone was going to be glued to a TV set somewhere. I went down to my office and tried to follow the news on the Internet, but every major news organization's website was down. The usage volume apparently was just too high.

There were frantic phone calls, messages, you name it. The world was turning upside down. Coach Ralph Harris met with the Tiger football team early that afternoon and there was a team discussion about what was taking place. There were a couple of team members back then who actually had relatives up in New York for various reasons, and there was some concern about their safety.

Eventually, of course, one of the team members that year -- a freshman middle linebacker named Greg Washington -- would put ETBU on the national stage a couple of years later by being called to active duty in the middle of the Tigers' playoff run in 2003.

Most of our athletic events that week would be postponed or cancelled, as I remember, but there was the discussion about the football game scheduled for the following Saturday, Sept. 15. Most colleges or conferences immediately cancelled games. Ours left it up to the individual schools. We were scheduled to play Mississippi College in the conference opener that week, and our officials got with their officials and courageously made the decision to play.

I say courageous because we knew we were going to be the only game in town that weekend, at least within a 600-mile radius or so of Marshall. There were no high school games, nothing -- but ETBU was going to play Mississippi College. We didn't know what to expect in terms of backlash, but our university felt it was important for us to play and try to do what the President George W. Bush was urging -- return to some sense of normalcy.

We decided to play nothing but patriotic music in pregame warmups. We handed out flags to everyone who attended. And it was a good afternoon of football -- American-style. The Tigers lost in overtime, but everyone who attended that game that day felt like a winner.

I went home that Tuesday, Sept. 11, night and wept on the way home. I felt like our country was falling apart and at that time we didn't quite know what we had to do. I wanted to get home and take care of my wife and two small kids, because that was the one part of the world I could understand.

We ate dinner in silence that night, turning the TV off. I wanted to keep the kids away from news as much as possible. But as I would find out during the course of the meal, my son Coby had already seen enough.

I don't know if it was the look on my face, or what, but Coby wanted to say the blessing -- at four years old. He said his typical "thank you for this food, dear God," prayer but then he closed it by saying this:

"And please take care of the people in the buildings. Amen."

The tears welled up again. And that was the spirit that I think all Americans were trying to muster that day. We were wanting to take care of each other, and saddened when the stories came out that some of us didn't make it. We were attacked collectively -- not just in New York, or Washington, or Pennsylvania -- but right here in Texas, Marshall, Texas. Right here at East Texas Baptist University.

We honor those people whose lives were snuffed out on Sept. 11. May we continue to honor them by never forgetting that terrible day, no matter where we are or what we are doing.