I remember.
Twenty-five years have passed since September 11, 2001.
Dad, no longer with us, called and told me to turn on the television, a large console that occupied the space where our aquarium now stands. I recall the moment the screen split and the Pentagon snapped into place beside the twin towers, smoke pouring.
Over a few hours, four airplanes became weapons in the hands of hijackers. Brave passengers fought back and diverted one plane headed for the Capital, their sacrifice saving countless lives. Firefighters and first responders ran without hesitation into the towers, unaware that the extensive damage would culminate in their collapse. People who missed flights or were late to work that day later realized, “I could have been there. That could have been me.”
Like me, most who were alive that day remember exactly where they were and what they were doing when they first heard the news reports. They recall exactly how they felt upon realizing this was an attack rather than a terrible accident. For the older generations, this wasn’t the first such moment in their history. Even children of school age in November 1963 remember where they were when the news came of President Kennedy’s assassination. Those of a similar age and beyond in December 1941 have corresponding memories related to the attack on Pearl Harbor. Our predecessors recalled similar experiences. History attests that from our earliest days we have endured, as Thomas Paine described in late 1776, “…times that try men’s souls.”
We also remember the moments of solidarity. For that moment in time, people came together, mourning with those who mourned, helping others bear their burdens. We cried. We prayed.
On this twenty-fifth anniversary, we remember the stories and the sacrifices. Our news feeds are filled with flags and flowers, thoughts and prayers. We mourn those who died, including those from throughout the country who went to help and succumbed over time to the effects of toxic dust and debris. Our hearts hurt for those who still suffer, for the families forever changed.
We had no way of knowing that day how much our world would change in the years to come. No one could imagine the challenges we face today while walking through one of the worst moments in our history. Multiple posts on today’s news feed express longing for the unity among us in the days immediately following the attack.
Our national motto, approved by a joint resolution of the Congress in 1956 and signed into law by President Dwight D. Eisenhower, is printed on our currency, engraved on our buildings, and embossed on our bumper stickers.
Four words: “In God We Trust.”
Stop for a moment and think, really think, about those words. God is not merely a concept, a relic relevant only in moments of national distress or celebratory pomp and circumstance. He who is the same yesterday, today, and forever remains the Soverign God who made everything from nothing, who saw each of us in our mother’s womb and knows the number of hairs on every head.
Things happen that the human mind simply cannot comprehend. But no matter how bleak things may look, all is not lost! The Lord told us Himself that we would have trouble in this world. Nothing that happens takes Him by surprise. Our world may fall apart around us, but you’ll never see Him wringing His hands, wondering what to do. He is still the help and hope of those who call on Him, the One who walks with us through the dark, shadowy valleys of life. His peace guards our hearts and minds in the midst of uncertainty and chaos.
I remember. I will always remember. And I will always pray to the God I trust for the peace and prosperity of this land where He has placed me.
Copyright 2026 lifeatroomtemperature.com Sherry A. Hathaway All rights reserved.