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S. A. J. Lyttek, a multiple award-winning writer, always loved writing, but didn’t arrive at the profession in the typical manner. After college and graduate school, she plunged into government consulting. In this environment, she discovered a knack for writing tests, interviews and other measurements. That soon became the focus of her career—reigniting her love for the written word. Thus captivated, she spent evenings freelancing “fun” writing including short stories, poems, articles and cards. When her eldest was a toddler, she quit full-time work to stay home and write. Eager to spend more time with her children, homeschooling intrigued her. From preschool through high school, she homeschooled both sons while continuing to freelance. While an integral part of the homeschooling community, she developed and taught writing classes to a generation of homeschoolers. Married to her childhood sweetheart, Gary, Mrs. Lyttek loves to share her commitment to learners of all ages and her fascination with the written word.
Over twenty years ago, our world pivoted.
In some ways, that’s very hard to believe. In others, the comparative age of our sons compared to that moment, it’s easy to see the change.
But it was such a shocking event that it’s easy to remember. It’s easy to remember, even if we would rather forget.
I know I would rather forget.
That time, those years right around 9/11, life was fragile. It always has been in truth, but it was during those years that the “here today, gone tomorrow” idea hit home.
First, we had the whole scare about the year 2000. Then the next year, 9/11 happened. Then the DC Sniper in 2003. And in between those events, there was always something publicized that incited fear. Since I had young children, I didn’t need anything else to make me anxious. It was about then I gave up watching or listening to the news. If I happened to catch a headline while online, that was one thing. But I wasn’t going to seek the bad news.
Here is what I remember. (A few of the details may be slightly off of what reality was because emotions have a way of distorting memories.) The morning of 9/11 was a Tuesday. Tuesdays, at that time in my life, were ladies Bible study. I packed up my guys and headed to church. My latest Celtic CD was in the player. I had no clue that the nation was already grieving.
The parking lot was a bit quiet. Not empty, but not as many cars. Also, there weren’t any kids playing in the field which seemed odd. Still, I took Erik and Karl up to the main building and checked them in. The woman on nursery duty made some comment about none of us being there long today and shook her head sadly.
It made no sense.
I walked down to the other building where we had most of the classes. Several women and the pastor were sitting around our table like usual. What wasn’t usual was that none of them had their Bibles open.
“It’s terrible, isn’t it?” one friend asked me. “Can you believe it?”
She saw the blank look on my face.
“Terrorists attacked the World Trade Center.”
One woman was on her phone with her husband whose job kept him informed about such details. He happened to work at the Pentagon.
The call dropped and she tried to ring him back unsuccessfully. Another lady in the group had a portable radio.
I was in that room when the plane hit the Pentagon.
In this area, we know (and knew) a lot of friends and family who work in that five-sided structure. The immediate tension was palpable.
“Let’s pray,” the pastor said, “and then disperse. This is not a normal day.”
In a fog, I regathered my two sons and headed back to the house. I tried to call Gary at his DC office, but all the lines were busy and circuits jammed.
The rest of the day was spent keeping the boys diverted, answering phone calls that came in from friends and family elsewhere in the country, and trying to reach Gary. He got home early for a work day, about 3:30, but late considering he’d been making his way home for hours.
Over the weeks that followed, we learned of countless miracles that had protected many. Yes, many had died, even sacrificing their lives on behalf of their fellow man. But others, including our friends, were preserved.
Several people we knew at the Pentagon had offices in the area that was hit. However, and this is a big however, their section was being remodeled. None of them were anywhere close to the destruction.
It is not a time I want to remember. Even focusing on the miracles, it was so sad on so many levels. Twenty or so years from now, it will still be a time where the world pivoted, similar to the recent pandemic.
The children of Israel did not want to remember the wilderness years. So many died. So many turned from God just when he showed his power with their deliverance.
And yet, God told them to remember. He told them to recite the details over and over and pass them down to their children. It is in the hard times, in the difficulty, that humans show their true colors and whether they strive for good or for evil.
So, remember. And tell those not born yet in such a way that it is real to them and they remember. Because when we remember, we are better for it.