Never Forget

Have I ever written about September 11? While my experience was far from harrowing as those in New York City in particular, it is a morning I will always remember. I was working in the old fab building on North Berkeley Lake Road. It was before fancy cell phone and social media, but there was the internet. A coworker had CNN.com up on their computer. We really didn’t have a TV in that small office.

I remember calling the cable company to cancel my service. The young Hispanic lady helping me was disshevled, and eventually asked “Is something going on?” I told her what I knew. Not much work got done that day. Some left early.

When I got home we just stared at the images on TV, and did so all week. I had planned on attending that night’s Braves game with a training group from work, but that was cancelled. With flights cancelled, the training group had to drive home, including two from Texas. Employees used company cars to drive great distances.

Charming new coworker Jim Barr was hired to be a wheeler dealer, so he spent a lot of time on the phone. Unlike so many of us with Southern accents, Jim was a New Yorker through and through – in a good way. Sadly, Jim happened to be on the phone with a friend in the World Trade Center when the plane hit. Jim could tell something was going on – then all of a sudden the phone went dead.

Later word came out that a friend from college was visiting the World Trade Center that morning. I had been on mission trips with Mike Gann. What a genuine guy. Real. Loved Jesus. Played the guitar. Blue jeans. Flannel shirts. Blue denim overalls. I hadn’t seen Mike in almost twenty years, but now every year I think of Mike.

The next Sunday we drove up 400 to North Point Community Church. Back then traffic would back up on Sunday morning on North Point Parkway and even on Old Milton Parkway, but that Sunday cars were backed up on 400 as they exited on Old Milton. A year later I took a carload of coworkers to a midday remembrance service at North Point. The place was packed. Names of those lost that day scrolled on the screens, and I looked for mike’s name.

This year I was busy all day, and barely paused to remember the events so vivid just 19 years ago. My generation’s Pearl Harbor. I don’t want to forget. Hopefully we as a country never will.