What Christmas Means To Me

Here I go again, stirring things up and asking for trouble. This is a post that I intended to write last Christmas but never got around to it. It's something that I've been wanting to get off my chest for a few years now. As I've pointed out many times in my musings, I was raised in the Church of Christ. I dearly love the CofC, and right now, I can't imagine ever worshipping with any other denomination. That being said, as an adult in the CofC, I began to question some of our traditions. In this way, I've made religion my own, and not "just my parents' religion". I think it is completely healthy to question, and I encourage everyone to discover for yourself what it is you truly believe. I sincerely hope that my family and other Christians from my childhood don't take this post as a slam against the Church of Christ.

As I was growing up, there was a firm belief in the Churches of Christ that Christmas should NOT be celebrated as the birth of Christ. One reason for this was that the specific birthdate of Christ is not given in the bible. Celebrating Christmas as Jesus' birthday would be in violation of the command to leave scripture as is; do not add to or take away from the word of God. I can't remember ever being given a "book, chapter and verse" for this command, but now that I'm researching, I've found a couple of scriptures in the OLD Testament (Deuteronomy 4:2, and Proverbs 30:5,6) and a scripture in Revelation pertaining specifically to the prophecies in that book (Revelation 22:18,19). The second reason for not celebrating the birth of Christ at Christmastime was that, according to scripture, we should not keep any holy days. Again, I can't remember any specific scripture being given to me, but I found one in Galatians (Galatians 4:10,11).

As a kid, we celebrated Christmas as that day that Santa Claus brings you presents. We had a tree, stockings, "Jingle Bells" and "Rudolph". All of the PAGAN aspects of this holiday, but none of the religious. We didn't sing traditional Christmas songs like "Joy To The World" or "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing" or hear sermons about the birth of Christ at all during the month of December. I don't think I even knew what the term "Nativity" meant until high school. I can remember a sermon from a preacher one year giving us his list of reasons, based on research, that the world had it wrong. Jesus could't possibly have been born anywhere near December 25th, because it would've been too cold for the shepherds to be out in the fields that time of year, or something like that.

I remember vividly when my beliefs became known to all of my friends. Back in the 80's (and especially in the south), it wasn't yet completely taboo to talk about God in school. In the fifth grade, we were given a writing assignment: Write your version of The Christmas Story. In describing the assignment, our teacher said he was talking about the birth of Jesus. Naively, I raised my hand and said, " But I don't believe that's 'The Christmas Story'". The gasp from my classmates was audible. To them, I was the Anti-Christ! If I remember correctly, I still wrote about the birth of Christ, but I ended it with a paragraph about not believing this was the Christmas Story; that it was "against my religion" to believe this. Try as I might to explain why my family felt this way (like, we choose to celebrate Christ's birth EVERY day, not just at Christmas), I did not win a single person to the Kingdom of Christ. All they heard was that I didn't believe in The Christmas Story.

I can't remember exactly what point it was in my life when my beliefs about Christmas began to change. When Tim and I dated in high school, he invited me to his Baptist church's Christmas program, The Living Christmas Tree. In it, was a live Nativity scene. Boy, did I struggle to sit there for what I thought was a completely blasphemous performance. We had many arguments about this subject throughout our years of dating. Once we became engaged, Tim became a member of my church and we didn't argue about Christmas anymore. It wasn't until we moved to Nashville a few years later and began attending Antioch Church of Christ that I began to see that not all people in the Church of Christ held the belief that Jesus' birth was not to be celebrated at Christmas. We actually sang a few carols during the month of December and had at least one sermon about baby Jesus. One year (the memory is kind of hazy, because I can't recall if this was a sermon or just someone expressing his thoughts before the Lord's Supper), we heard a story from someone confessing his guilt about a situation similar to my story from fifth grade. He'd had a fight with a girl in school about Christmas not being Christ's birthday. Now as an adult, he mourned that he hadn't acted very Christ-like. The impression he left with her about the kind of Christian he was, was that he thought it was more important to argue about Christmas than it was to share the love of Christ. His confession had a huge impact on me.

I think the transforming of my mind has happened rather slowly. I choose to celebrate Christmas as the day that God came to live among us in flesh as a newborn baby. Born to a virgin, in a dirty stall. I think this has been a gradual shift for many in the Church of Christ. The church I grew up in now sings carols and talks about the Nativity during the month of December. My parents do as well. It really gripes me when I hear the old thinking in the CofC regarding Christmas. There are many that still hold fast to the old beliefs. I read a blog written just a couple of weeks ago proclaiming that if Christ had wanted to be a part of Christmas, He would've given us specific instructions in the bible that His birth was to be celebrated on December 25th every year. It even implied that people that celebrated Christ at Christmas don't celebrate Him the other 364 days a year. How presumptuous! All I know is that if the world chooses to celebrate Christ's birth during Christmastime, I think we should take this opportunity to spread the gospel to ears that are willing to hear, instead of debating timelines and scriptures. If we win more souls for the Kingdom at Christmastime, how can this approach be wrong? So, yes, I'm going to wish you a Merry CHRISTmas, and a Happy New Year!

The Week I Was Stoned

FORWARD:
I wrote this nearly a week ago. I was waiting to post it until I knew what the ending to the story would be. Yesterday, December 20th, an X-ray showed that the stone is GONE! I have no idea when it decided to vacate the premises. Instead of doing some editing, I decided to leave the post mostly as is. May you NEVER have a week like I just had!!

It was the Christmas season. So much to do. It was also our anniversary. I had spent the last 11 days giving little gifts to my husband in the tradition of "The 12 Days Of Christmas". I called it "The 12 Days Of Our Anniversary". (Someday, I hope to do a little post with all of the pictures of the gifts and notes I gave him) We were all set to spend the day together, celebrating our anniversary on December 12. At 4 am, I woke up in pain. I lay there, hoping it was gas or ovulation pain, but twenty minutes later, my panting and moaning woke Tim up. Tim had a coworker that had recently had kidney stones, so he suggested we go to the ER. Thus began our anniversary from Hell. I've posted about my kidney stone on Facebook ad nauseam, but I've learned a few things from this experience. So at the risk of a lynching from those that are sick to death of hearing about this, I thought I'd share my stones, er, pearls of wisdom.

Kidney stones have a horrible reputation. You go into a doctor's office or ER and even hint at "kidney stones", and you have the sympathy of everyone around you. No one doubts your pain for a second. If they haven't had one themselves, they have all heard the horror stories. They're nearly throwing pain pills at you. "How many do you want? Do you want the really strong stuff? We just want to make you as comfortable as possible." That's reassuring, but at the same time frightening. Just how bad is this going to get?

And speaking of horror stories...Just like your terrifying childbirth stories do nothing to comfort an expectant mother, so do your terrifying stories of passing a kidney stone told to one that has yet to pass theirs. Just sayin'. That said, yes, kidney stones are worse than labor, but allow me to explain why. 1. With labor and delivery you get an epidural. No epidural with kidney stones. 2. Contractions come in waves, with a contraction lasting about 30 seconds. Kidney stone pain is CONSTANT. There may be some days better than others, but mostly, you're in pain until the stone is passed (unless you're completely stoned on pain meds). 3. Childbirth occurs (most of the time) within a few hours or a day. Four days and 12 hours later, I have YET to birth this thing. Although, as I commented on Facebook, you don't have to figure out how to send a kidney stone to college, so I'll take the stone.

This was horrible timing, happening on our anniversary and so close to Christmas. But, it could've been worse. Just 12 hours before my pain began, I had returned from a girls weekend in the mountains. Miles away from an ER. Yikes! And though I love to savor my last few days of freedom before kids are out of school and that was ruined by this stupid stone, I never would've gotten the rest I needed had this happened a week later while the kids were home all day. Again, yikes!

Finally, I knew my husband was amazing, but I was reminded how much this week. He completely rearranged his schedule so that he could deliver kids to and from school while I was doped up on pain meds, and he NEVER complained. He's ever the optimist, so he tried to help me laugh at the absurdity of our situation. The night this all began, on our anniversary, his Facebook post read, "I think we were attacked by the irony police today. See, I was going to surprise Mel with dinner at Stoney River. We were going to have Rock Lobster. Then later we were going to go to the Cold Stone Creamery." Sure, it was completely unromantic, but it was freakin' hilarious. A kidney stone is the absolute worst anniversary gift I can imagine, but at the same time, it has reminded me of my husband's patient, loving, gentle spirit and the awesome marriage that I've been blessed with. Maybe this stupid stone was what we needed after all.

It's The Little Things

Yes, it has been a long time since my last post. One of these days, I'm going to get back into the habit of regular blogging. Aywho, tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Last year, I posted a list of things I'm thankful for. I'd like to do that again this year, but with a twist. Since my list of serious blessings from last year still apply, I would just be repeating what's already been said. So instead, I'd like to list those minor, more trivial things in my life that bring me joy. By the way, I was inspired after I heard a DJ on the morning show I listen to ask his listeners to call in with their "silly blessings".

1. My sense of humor. In my humble opinion, I think I have a pretty good one. My husband's sense of humor is very similar to mine, so sometimes, all it takes is repeating some random TV or movie quote to crack us both up. Let's face it; to survive parenting (especially parenting an autistic child) you've got to be able to laugh in many situations.

2. Coffee. Do I really need to explain this one? I especially love the Starbucks Caramel Macchiato that my husband brings me every Saturday morning (when I'm in town, that is).

3. iTunes. I used to fantasize as a kid, when I recorded my mix tapes from the radio, that one day, I would have the infinite tape on which I could record the mix tape that would never end. iTunes gets pretty close to my childhood dream. I currently have 5,334 songs in iTunes, with 51 different playlists. I can put hundreds of songs in one list! My love of music leads me to the next item on my list...

4. The Bargain Bin at McKay's Used Books. Yes, they have books, which I love, but my favorite thing is the CDs you can find in their Bargain Bin. They get so many CDs, that they can't take the time to buff out the really scratched up ones. These go into the Bargain Bin. I've found CDs here anywhere from 92 cents to a nickel! Then, I take my finds to another CD trade store down the road where they will buff the scratches out for $1 a piece. You have to be a little picky. There are obviously some CDs that are beyond repair. But, I've found some great stuff. Like the Sleepless In Seattle Soundtrack for 5 cents! Harry Connick, Jr. CDs for 19 cents! When I'm done with them, I can trade them in for another pile. I'm getting music practically for free!

5. Netflix. I pay a little money each month, and I can catch up on entire series that I missed out on the first time around, such as Lost. I also get a huge library of movies, right at my fingertips.

6. Clean sheets. I love crawling into bed when my 400 thread count sheets have been freshly washed.

7. Long, hot showers. 'Nuff said.

8. Babysitting co-op. About once a month, we get free babysitting when we send our kids to a friends house. We reciprocate by keeping their kids on a different night. Our kids all like to play together, so it's a win-win for everyone!

9. Facebook. Such an easy and fun way to reconnect with old friends and get to know new ones better.

10. My irises and daffodils. I have a few thousand of both. They never let me down, and they are the most dependable plants I have. They just want to be divided every few years, but other than that, they are happy as clams. The best part? They were FREE, planted by the previous owner!

So, these were the first 10 things that popped into my head within about an hour's time. I know in the past I've mentioned posts that I would like to continue. It would be fun to keep this "silly blessings" thing up, but I obviously can't make any promises. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

In The Hot Seat

As I've probably said before, I sing with a fabulous group of ladies called the Metro Nashville Chorus. I've become rather involved: Not only am I in the chorus, but I'm also in a quartet, I'm on the music team, and I'm on the management team as the Membership Coordinator. As Membership Coordinator, I decided a fun way to get to know each other and get closer as a group was to do short, 5-minute long interviews at the end of rehearsals. I call these interviews "The Hot Seat". I usually start out with a couple of questions, then other chorus members chime in with their own burning questions. I record these interviews on my iPhone, and then type up the transcript for the member-only portion of the chorus website. Recently, I decided that it was time that I put myself in "The Hot Seat". There probably aren't any shocking revelations here, but I thought I'd share the interview with my Melmac readers. It also happens to be a quick and easy solution for a blog post. ;)

Q: Alrighty! Tonight, I am interviewing myself! So, first question: How long have you been in Nashville?

A: (Jumping over to sit on the stump) I've been in Nashville since '96, so that makes it 15 years.

Q: (JENNIFER PALUS) Where were you born?

A: Where was I born? I was born...I would do a Steve Martin bit, but I don't think everyone would get it. ("I was born a poor black child...") I was born in south Georgia, in Valdosta. And I only lived there for a couple of years and then moved to South Carolina. (BRIDGET WIETLISBACH: Military family?) No, no. So, raised in South Carolina.

Q: (DEBORAH MILLER) How did you find out about MNC?

A: That is a really, interesting, roundabout question. My husband actually worked with Michelle for a time, and in passing, Michelle had talked about chorus. I don't remember this, but Tim swears that he came home and said, "Hey, Michelle sings in this chorus, and I know you love to sing. Maybe you might want to do that sometime.". I really don't remember it. So, fast forward a couple of years later. Rachel is working at my kids' school. (RACHEL: Was) Well, at that time, was. And her assistant, or a substitute that was helping her at the time was Valerie McKnight, who went to church with me. Rachel got Valerie interested, and Valerie talked to me and said, "Oh, wouldn't this be cool if we both did this together?!". So, she dragged me here, and I'm still here, and Valerie is not. That was 2 years ago, so I've been here 2 years.

Q: (JENNIFER PALUS) What's your favorite non-barbershop song? Or kind of music?

A: Oh my. I am a rocker chick. (Like head-banging?) Not quite the head-banger; well, I like the hair bands from the 80's. That's probably as head-banging as I get. I'm a HUGE John Mayer fan. But, I have a vast array of music on my iPod, from Beethoven to Winger.

Q: (LAURA HAMMONS) You have music in your family, right?

A: Yes! My dad was a rebellious rocker back in the day, and was a drummer for a little rock band, garage band. (JENNIFER: And they were called The Who) Ha! Unfortunately, no. And my grandmother gave piano lessons, so it was kind of in the family.

Q: (CYNDI SPINDEN) Do you have a hobby other than singing?

A: I do! I love to scrapbook, though I haven't done it in a while. And I love to garden, and I haven't done that in a while, because 100 degree temperatures did not really tempt me to go outside and work. So, if you come to my house right now, my yard is a complete mess. (BRIDGET: But the inside of her house is beautiful!) Haha! Getting there, it's getting there.

Q: (KAT GREENE) Do you have any pets?

A: I have a very psychotic dog, that you've probably all heard about at some point; Satan, I mean, Midnight. And we have 2 cats. One that I rescued from the back yard last year just as an itty-bitty 5 day old kitten, abandoned by it's mother. (DENICE FRENCH: She fed it until the milk came out of it's eyes!)

Q: (GENA SALDANA) Best karaoke song?

A: Believe it or not, I have NEVER done karaoke (EVERYONE GASPS!!!) I've done Rock Band in someone's living room, but I've never gone out to a public karaoke bar.

Q: (GENA SALDANA) Sports? Are you into any kind of sports?

A: I am not a sports fan AT ALL. I don't get football. I will watch it with my husband if I have to; hockey, totally don't get. No. No. No sports.

Q: (JENNIFER PALUS) Are you a reader?A: Sometimes. (JENNIFER: What kind of books do you like to read?) Christian fiction. Harry Potter; love all of the Harry Potter books.

Q: (JENNIFER PALUS) Are you a writer?

A: I blog! Its www.musings-from-melmac.blogspot.com (JENNIFER: So you were born in a "blog cabin"?) Ah, yes. A blog cabin.

Alrighty! I think that's all I have for myself!

I hope to do a post in the near future about my experiences in chorus. (I'm playing with a title: "My Life In Sequins".) If you are of the female persuasion and love to sing, I encourage you to come check us out. You don't know what you're missing!

The Day The Earth Stood Still: Part 3

The prayer service started at 6:30. It would be short; the president would be addressing the nation at 7pm (central). I stayed in the nursery with Pierce and Reagan, because neither of them were in the mood to sit quietly. I could watch the service on a monitor. At seven, the men in the control room tried to get the president's address to come up on the big screens in the auditorium. It took a minute or two. I changed channels on the nursery monitor until I found it. It was so moving. I cried at this reference to the 23rd Psalm.

On the way home, it was strange to look up and see nothing but stars. No moving lights, not a single plane in the sky. We got home and put the kids to bed. Of course, Tim and I sat in front of the television for the rest of the evening. We were stunned to see the brilliant fire lighting up the NY skyline. There wasn't a lot of new information. Osama Bin Laden and his Al Qaeda terrorist group (based in Afghanistan) were the main suspects. It was too early to say for certain that he was responsible. Earlier in the day, there were reports of gun fire in Afghanistan, but the US denied having anything to do with it. It was too soon to declare war on them. Mostly, the images on TV were those I had seen all day. The plane slamming into the building, the buildings collapsing, people running for their lives, the Pentagon on fire, NYC covered in snow-like ash. It was surreal.

I felt such sorrow and heartbreak. I also had the unsettling feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. I knew it wasn't over. As terrible as that day was, each day after was worse. The personal stories were coming out. The widows, the widowers, the orphaned children. About 400 firefighters were missing. Every reporter on the street was surrounded by people holding up pictures of their missing loved ones. There were answering machine messages left by people trapped in the WTC or passengers on the hijacked flights. I told Tim that if he had been in that situation, I wouldn't have wanted him to call me. I wouldn't want those final words to play over and over again in my head for the rest of my life. But, that's just me. Maybe people were comforted by hearing goodbyes from the people they loved. There was news that some of the passengers on Flight 93 (the one that crashed in Pennsylvania) knew they were supposed to become a weapon. They attacked the terrorists before the plane could reach its target. The pilot had already been killed, so these people knew that the plane would crash and they were going to die. The sadness was crushing. I wondered if I would ever stop crying. The president declared September 14th a National Day of Prayer. That day was also my 27th birthday. I watched the prayer service at the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C., overwhelmed with a mixture of grief and love for our country. Tim and I got a sitter that night so we could go out for my birthday, but we certainly didn't feel like celebrating. I don't even remember what we did.

There were hero stories that made me cry, too. Like the two men that carried a woman in her wheelchair down 86 floors of the World Trade Center. Two women that ran a daycare close to the WTC raced across town to safety on foot carrying 10 young children. Lines were 3 to 6 hours long for people donating blood. Everyone felt so patriotic. God and prayer were mentioned on national television by people who would usually do their best to avoid the subjects. I remember looking out of the car window four days after the attack and thinking how beautiful the scenery was and how blessed my family was to live in this country.

I could write so much more. But, I don't think I could say anything that isn't written in the memorabilia I've saved. Previous generations remember just what they were doing when Pearl Harbor was bombed, JFK was assassinated, or the space shuttle Challenger blew up. I know I'll never forget 9/11. I hope no one does.

The Day The Earth Stood Still: Part 2

Eyewitnesses were being interviewed one after another. The second plane was crashing into the tower over and over again. One thing I noticed was how blue the sky was. It was such a beautiful day in New York City. The black smoke just didn't belong in the picture. Finally, at 9:30 (central), I scooped up Reagan and ran to the car. I didn't want to miss anything. I cranked up the car and turned the station to 99.7 just in time to hear that tower #1 had just collapsed. There was a moment of silence, then Peter Jennings said only, "Good Lord". Chills raced down my spine. I felt compelled to see it for myself. I threw the car in park, grabbed Reagan and ran back inside. As I turned on the TV, the tower was collapsing again in a replay. The TV anchors searched for words. The World Trade Center, two of the tallest buildings in the world, was nothing but ash. I had to get to church.

On the way, I listened to a blur of witnesses. Then, as I got close to church, more breaking news. There were reports of a plane crash in Pennsylvania. It was now speculated that these planes had been hijacked. It seemed so odd that this plane had crashed in an empty field. Why hadn't they tried to hit something on the ground?

When I arrived at church, people were walking around like zombies. Several were crying. We exchanged stories: how we heard the news, how we reacted. I left Reagan in the nursery and walked down the hall to class with my friend, Kathy. There was a few minutes of complete panic when her phone rang, and she got a report that Camp David had been hit. I wouldn't find out until I got home later that this information was false. I remembered my cell phone in the car. What if the schools were cancelled and I needed to pick Pierce up early? I ran back to get it.

About 15 of us gathered. A couple of women spoke and read Bible passages, a couple prayed. We all cried. Then to end the class, we stood in a circle holding hands and each took a turn praying. I was so glad I went. I felt some peace.

My mind was filled with questions as I went to pick Pierce up from school. Would the teachers know? How much would they know? Would they ask me what I knew? I sat outside the school and composed myself. Pierce's teachers brought his class outside. They acted as if nothing was different. They didn't want the kids to get upset. On the ride home, Pierce chattered away, blissfully unaware.

As soon as I got home, I turned on the TV. Pierce was oblivious to what was happening. Each station speculated how many people had been killed. I had already prepared myself to hear about 10,000. It was too early to tell. Information was scrolling across the bottom of the screen. Malls were closed, churches all over Nashville were announcing prayer services. Tim worked downtown. There was a building a few blocks away from his office that had been evacuated because of a bomb threat. This happened to many buildings around town that day. For the first time all day, I put my head in my hands and cried. Tim called, but we didn't know what to say to each other. I put the kids down for naps, then went back to the TV. They were asking for blood donors. My blood is O+, and I knew it would be in demand. I called my friend, Tammy, from Ladies Class. She was an OB nurse, and I wanted to know how soon after having a baby I could donate blood. I got her machine, so I called the Red Cross. They told me one could give blood six weeks after giving birth. Reagan was 7-months-old. Tammy called later to answer my question. She wasn't worried about a lack of blood, she was more concerned that the blood wouldn't be needed. Very few were coming in injured, which meant the death toll would be big. She asked if I'd heard about our church's prayer service. I had seen it on TV. I called Tim to tell him I wanted us to go.

I had dinner warmed up when Tim got home. Reagan was napping and Pierce was at the table. We went to the living room. Tim saw the pictures for the first time. The WTC and the Pentagon continued to burn. A third building, tower #7, had collapsed at about 4:30. We watched the plane hit over and over. No matter how many times I saw it, the fireball and then the collapses, I was horrified. I couldn't wrap my brain around it. We clasped hands and cried. We ate in front of the TV. Tim blessed the food and thanked God for keeping us all safe. He said that one of his first impulses had been to go get Pierce from school, but he had decided Pierce would be safe there. We didn't have much time to talk. We gobbled down dinner and got the kids ready for church.

The Day The Earth Stood Still: Part 1

As I get older, it is unbelievable to me how very fast time goes by. In just a few short days, the world will acknowledge the 10 year anniversary of 9/11. Even though I was not directly affected by the events of that day, I find myself resisting the process of remembering. All of the stories, pictures and videos from that day and where the survivors are now strike a nerve in me that is still so raw, even after all of these years. The events took place during a time that I was dealing with some post-partem depression, and it's a place I don't like to visit. However, I believe strongly in archiving the family history. This is my generation's Pearl Harbor or JFK assassination. So, for my future generations, I wrote down the details of that day in the way it related to me and my family. I did this about 2 months after the attacks. In fact, I wrote it the day another plane crashed in New York in November 2001. It's a fairly long account, so I'm bringing it to you in three parts. I realize everyone is being reflective right now, so this is just one of millions of stories that are being told on such a significant anniversary. This story isn't special or unique; it's just mine.

November 12, 2001

Today, there was a plane crash in Queens, NY. No one knows right now if it was an accident or an act of terrorism. When I walked into the living room at 8:40 (central) this morning and saw the breaking news report, my heart sank. Black smoke billowed up from the ground and immediately I thought, "Please, God, not again!". I said a quick prayer and thought about the day two months ago when the world was changed forever. I have articles describing the historic events of that day, but I want to give my own account.

September 11, 2001. The day started like any other. I woke up around 7am. I really try to give my day to God, but when I first wake up, I start to think about everything that has to be done and get sidetracked. This day was different. Before getting out of bed, I thanked God for the day, and asked for protection for every member of my family. Then, I woke Pierce up and got him dressed for pre-school. I kissed Tim and Pierce goodbye, then got 7-month-old Reagan up and fed. Today was Tuesday; Ladies Bible Class day. I needed to shower and dress, but I decided to take the time to have some coffee and watch The Today Show on NBC. I think it was about 7:50 (central), and one of the Kennedys was being interviewed (I think it was Edward). I really wasn't interested in the interview, so I turned it to Fox. A cartoon was on, so I turned it to CBS. The top of the screen said, "BREAKING NEWS" and there was black smoke pouring out of a tall building. Bryant Gumble said that witnesses had reported a plane crashing into tower #1 of the World Trade Center. I was panicked! Preferring NBC, I kept turning it back there to see what they were saying. They were showing commercials. I couldn't figure out why they wouldn't be showing this. Finally, at 8 (central), Matt Lauer told of breaking news at the World Trade Center. They talked to a doorman at the Marriot Hotel, which was between towers #1 and #2. He said it looked like a small charter plane had hit the tower. Debris was falling and people were running. I just couldn't believe what a horrible accident this was! How could a pilot not see the WTC? It was 110 stories high! Katie Couric was talking to an NBC producer who called in from her cell phone at about 8:05. Suddenly, she screamed and said, "Oh my God, another one just hit!". A huge fireball rose from the second tower. I could hear Al Roker and others off camera gasp. The producer yelled into her cell phone, "Did you see that?!" Katie answered yes. My feet were frozen and my knees were locked. My brain couldn't process what I was seeing. I screamed over and over, "Oh my God, my God!". My next thought was, "This is it! The world is ending!". The Today Show anchors were at a loss for words. I decided to call my mother. I knew she couldn't do anything, but I just needed to hear her voice. She sounded groggy. I asked, "Are you watching this?". She said she was still in bed. I told her to turn on the TV. The WTC had just been hit by two small airplanes. She got the TV on just as NBC began to replay the second plane hitting. It took me a moment to realize that it was a replay and not a third plane hitting the towers. I tried to fill her in on what I knew, and the thought suddenly hit me: THIS WAS NO ACCIDENT. We both watched, stunned, she in SC and me in TN. After a few minutes, we hung up, hoping nothing worse would happen.

Ladies class! My first impulse was to stay home and watch the news coverage. Then, I knew that now more than ever, we needed to be together praying for our country. I tried to pull myself away from the TV. Katie Couric kept saying it was possible this wasn't an accident, but an act of terrorism. I yelled back, "Of course this is terrorism! Don't you see that?!". I finally carried the radio into our bathroom and turned it to 99.7 talk radio so I could get a shower. The station was airing ABC's live coverage. Peter Jennings was covering the story. A couple of minutes after I got in the shower, president George W. Bush made his first public statements. He was in Florida talking to second graders when everything began. He gave a brief synopsis of events. Then, he said that we would "hunt down the folks who committed this act". I felt reassured. A minute or two after he spoke, Peter Jennings said he had more breaking news. There were reports of smoke coming from the Pentagon. Once again, I panicked. This couldn't be happening! Sure enough, the Pentagon had also been hit by an airplane. For the first time ever, the FAA ordered all planes in the air to land at the closest airport. Then, US airports were to close indefinitely. By now, we knew that the planes that crashed were Boeings: 757s and 767s. Big planes. They just looked small beside the enormous World Trade Center.

I hurried out of the shower and ran back to the TV. Once again, I needed to hear a familiar voice. I knew Tim was in a meeting, but I called him on his cell phone. He was getting pretty sketchy details from phone calls to the other men in the meeting. I told him the Pentagon had been hit and that all US airports had been closed. He couldn't talk long, so we exchanged "I love you"s and hung up. I ran to get dressed and put on my makeup. I was in the living room getting things together for Ladies Class. It was about 9am (central). Someone was being interviewed on NBC. Matt Lauer interrupted and said, "Can we roll the tape back a little? I thought I just saw something fall from the side of tower #2.". Before the tape could be rolled back, the tower crumbled. It just pancaked; floor after floor until there was nothing but smoke. It was such a strong building. No one seemed to think it would come down. This was the first time I heard someone mention all of the firefighters that were inside the buildings helping people out. How many were in that building when it came down?