9/11 My Story–Everyone’s Story
We all have a 9/11 story.
We know where we were when the terrorists flew into the Twin Towers and forever changed life in America.
I was dressing to go exercise with a friend. I happened to have the television on in the bedroom. I hardly left that bedroom for the rest of the day, glued to that television.
My husband had flown to Boston the day before–rented a car–was engaged in business. He assumed by Friday when he was scheduled to fly home, the airlines would be flying again. He ended up driving his rental car from Boston to Denver.
It just so happens that we also had tickets purchased before 9/11 for a trip to NYC in October. We went anyway. In October you could still smell the smoke. We also wanted to see the site but the cops were keeping “tourists” away, not realizing that we were pilgrims not tourists. We wanted to see the place where it happened because it was our story, too.
The same thing can happen to family stories. We can be too protective, especially of the secret or difficult stories. The danger is that being too protective can turn younger generations into tourists when they want to be pilgrims.