"Joy Came in the Morning": How Faith and Friendship Got Me Through 9/11

This is Lee Habib and this is now American stories and today old Joe loan were honoring and remembering the events of September 11, 2001 also going to be hearing stories from those who witnessed the events on that day and stories about the events of that day up next.

The story from Jocelyn Greene was working in our nation's capital, Washington DC on the morning of September 11 to get away just September 11, 2001 I was a 23-year-old single woman working in Washington DC just eight blocks from the Lever and a staff meeting when the receptionist on-duty person to the conference room and blurted out, they hit the Pentagon you can see the smoke from the rooftop.

The woman beside me screamed and I quietly fought the rising tide of panic swelling inside my chest. We were told another plane was headed for. We were sitting ducks and we knew it, throngs of people were streaming out of the buildings on Capitol Hill, running over each other to go, who knows where fighter jets roared over the city, drowning out the sounds of chirping birds and casting ominous shadows on this otherwise cloudless blue sky day rumors were reported as news on the television. We heard that a car bomb detonated at the State Department at the 14th St. bridge had been blown up, which was our way to get across the Potomac River and at home. It seems the whole world was falling down around us. That afternoon we came together as a staff to pray. One woman quoted Scripture in her prayer, weeping remains for a night.

She said, but joy comes in the morning.

Psalm chapter 30 verse five. I remember thinking how long will this night last before we feel joy again.

The Pentagon was less than a mile from my home in Arlington.

I passed through it twice a day. Up until that point to catch a bus or subway train. The attack on the Pentagon was an attack on my neighborhood. I felt violated.

It was personal to me. Driving home that evening.

For some reason I chose not to use the Metro system that morning.

We passed by the Pentagon, the smoke from the fires was choking. Even from inside the car with the windows rolled up fire still blazed and would for at least a week. They kept reigniting themselves.

That evening I took a break from watching the news and decided to mow the lawn, but this tragic event wasn't something I could just turn off when I turned off the TV for when I push the lawnmower across the grass.

I walked through clouds of swirling ash that had carried on the wind from the Pentagon. The air outside my home. My home smelled like smoke for at least a week. Is it any wonder. This attack felt personal to me. It happened in my backyard. I felt sick to my stomach for three days and cried until the well ran dry but at no point did I question the existence of God or have a crisis of faith God was still God, and I still trusted the terrorist attacks were evidence that we live in a fallen world alongside other sinners and even as I mourn for those who lost their lives and mourn for those of us who lost our sense of safety in our own country. I recognize that this was not the first time I terrorist had attacked in certain parts of the world terrorism occurs on a regular basis. How selfish would it be for me to be okay with God while evil happens to other countries but once it comes to my doorstep to shake my fist at no my face did not suffer, but my sense of peace did a dark cloud settled over my spirit in the weeks after September 11, 2001 my enemy did not have a face. It was grief and fear people. I used to ride the bus to the Pentagon with. I never saw again. I stared at the vacant seats.

While we silently snaked our way through traffic. Wondering about their families.

Every radio station talked about bomb shelters anthrax and other possible methods of terrorism. We rolled our windows down while driving over bridges so if the bridge blew up while we were on it. We could escape the car while a sink in the river standing in the subway station waiting for my train to come. We heard what seemed like an explosion not too far from us. I locked eyes with a stranger.

No doubt we were both just a startled bow thinking about how dangerous the subway station could be if the terrorist chose to attack it in moments like those we were no longer just fellow commuters. We were fellow Americans, bracing ourselves against our fears even as we tried to live life as normal.

I know it sounds dramatic but those were dramatic times two weeks after the terrorist attacks I went to a prayer meeting at a local church. I sat in a hard wooden pew my head in my hands when I heard the floorboards nearly squeak when I looked up I saw a girl I went to college with here. She was looking so out of place and that somber church with her eyes dancing in one hand covering her mouth to keep from giggling since I was her already in college we were really friends then, but when I saw her. We hunted and stepped out of the church and into the sunshine together.

She'd been working for her Congressman, but wasn't allowed back to work for weeks because of the anthrax scare and clean. So we had coffee together. Then Emile then I was going with her on all kinds of trips, Mount Vernon, Annapolis, the Smithsonian museums, outdoor concerts at Wolf trap even after she was allowed back at work.

The friendship continued.

We went to New York City together. We hosted Thanksgiving for a dozen singles who had no place else to go. The dark cloud hanging over me, lifted, and this friend helped me to chase after joy to grab a hold of it and not let go. We still new life was forever different, but I learned that I could still laugh and enjoy the good gifts God gives us life was still full of my favorite things. Joy came in the morning.

The terrorist attacks were intended to cause a crippling fear to take root in our country that you know what I saw Bible studies pop up in the offices of senators and congressmen were God's name was not mentioned before, I saw people reaching out to each other.

We prayed more. Terrorism was met with heroism and what man intended for evil God used for good or beautiful job of living in production Vermont Montgomery. Special thanks to Jocelyn Greene for sharing her story.

Her Washington DC story budget was in DC on that day I was working at CBS and you could see you impact terrorism was met with her was and Jocelyn said what man intended for evil God used for good story of 9/11 a remembrance 9/11 all show on here on L Americans if you love the stories we tell about this great country and especially the stories of America's rich past. Know that all of our stories about American history towards innovation culture and faith are brought to us by the grateful Hillsdale College placement. Students study all the things that are beautiful in life. All the things are good in one if you can go to Hillsville will bill will come to you with your freedom.

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