Along with most people, yesterday was a reflecting kinda day. Remembering what it was like and how things have changed as a result. Our family had just moved to Germany at the end of August, so we didn't have a TV set up yet, no internet, and hadn't met any friends. We were just getting into the routine of the new school year and Bill's new job. Bill called me from work at about dinnertime like he usually did since we only had one car then and he would call to let me know to come pick him up from work. This time though it was to let me know that he would be working late...how late he had no idea, that a plane had flown into the World Trade Center. I didn't fully grasp what he was talking about. I imagined a small plane...like a Cessna or something. I wondered why it would matter to his work...I know that some world events do since Bill works in Public Affairs and when stuff happens it is his office that the media calls to find out what is up. We couldn't talk long, I could hear the phones ringing in the background. When he finally called me back and gave me the whole story it was quite late. I wasn't sure really what to do. My first instinct was to draw my family close...and those who weren't close I wanted to get in contact with...both the let them know we were OK and to know that they were OK. I know my family lives far from the danger, but it is what I wanted then. The next day we decided to keep the boys home from school. They go to school on an army base and we felt like it would be like putting them inside a huge painted target if anything else was to happen. We live in a small little village and are the only Americans on our block. When we close our gate to the street we are completely safe and anyone driving by on the street wouldn't know what nationality the people living inside were. Bill had to go to work though...he said he hated to..but that he had to. I drove him in to work and it was a surreal experience. The day before all the gates to the military housing areas near his work were open wide and the streets going in and out of the housing area were open to all traffic. On this day there were barriers set up, sandbags, soldiers at each intersection in combat gear with M-16s. We went through several checkpoints to get into where Bill's office was...and we were all silent looking through our windows at all the soldiers with their weapons.
Since then many different "force protection" practices have been implemented. I can't really go into them...but it isn't as easy to get onto the base as it used to be, and we have gotten 'used' to seeing soldiers in their gear carrying weapons. It is to keep us safe...and it slows us down coming and going but that is the way it has to be now.
Since then we have gone to war. There are support groups in my kids school for families who have moms or dads that are deployed. There are yellow ribbons with names on them signed by little hands in the PX hoping their daddy comes back home safe. Some don't. Or some come back injured. They come back on leave and have to go again. It is hard. I am so so glad that Bill isn't in the Army any more and we don't have to worry about him going there and not coming back home.
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