A plane had struck the Twin Towers in NYC. Dear God in heaven. No one knew at the point what was going on. Most people thought it was an accident. No one could imagine terrorists using a plane as a weapon. What kind of monster would even think of such a thing?
At the time, my husband and I were dirt poor college students. We couldn’t afford TV, so we had a little antenna that didn’t do much of anything. I turned the radio up and ran downstairs in our little apartment. I watched the first tower, smoke pouring from it on a screen that was more fuzz than picture.
I watched the second plane hit the tower. People were dying. I was watching people die. And someone had murdered them. I laid my hand on my stomach, as I was five months pregnant. What kind of life was I bringing this baby into? What kind of horrible world was he going to live in?
Columbine was only a few years before that. Around the same time, my grandmother and aunt were shot at the SLC Genealogy Library. I cried for my unborn son, for the world he would have to be a part of. And I couldn’t see how it could get worse.
But it did get worse. Around the time of the Sandy Hook shooting, I decided to stop watching the news. It breaks my heart too much.
The evil in the world is getting worse. But I have found hope. For the good in the world is getting stronger too. Everywhere evil strikes, good people are there, handing out blankets and hugs. People are generally more tolerant of differences than they were during my childhood.
I hold onto that hope, for my childrens’ sake.