The Frequency of Faith - When the World Stopped
On the 24th anniversary of 9/11, I remember not just what we lost, but what we found in each other. Faith, unity, and presence remain frequencies we can still choose today.
The phone rang at 8:47 AM, cutting through my sophomore sleep like a blade.
It was Josh, and I could hear something in his voice I'd never heard before - a seriousness that jolted me awake faster than any alarm clock ever could. "Turn on the TV," he said. "Now."
I rolled out of bed in my McCutcheon High School t-shirt, stumbling toward that massive tube TV in our living room - you know the kind, the ones that weighed a hundred pounds and took two people to move. As the screen flickered to life, I saw smoke billowing from the North Tower of the World Trade Center.
Josh was still on the line as we watched together, trying to make sense of what we were seeing. The news anchors were calling it an accident, maybe a small plane. We were just two teenagers in Indiana, trying to process something that felt impossibly far away yet somehow right in our living room.
And then, at 9:03 AM, everything stopped.
We watched the second plane slice into the South Tower in real time. The world tilted off its axis. In that moment, I wasn't a high school sophomore worried about ISTEP scores or whether I'd gotten to sleep in that morning. Josh wasn't just my friend calling to chat. We were witnesses to history, and everything else became background noise.
When Normal Disappeared
I remember walking into McCutcheon later that morning. Every classroom had a TV tuned to the news. Teachers who usually commanded attention stood quietly in corners. Students who normally couldn't sit still for five minutes stared at screens in complete silence.
The usual high school soundtrack - lockers slamming, friends laughing, the constant hum of teenage chatter - had been replaced by something I'd never experienced before: collective focus. Everyone was present in the same moment, processing the same incomprehensible reality.
We talked big, the way teenage boys do. There was tough talk about the draft, about going to war, about showing whoever did this what America was made of. But underneath the bravado, we were scared. Really scared. Because we understood, even at sixteen, that we were watching the world change forever.
Everything that had mattered that morning - sleeping in, avoiding tests, weekend plans - suddenly felt trivial. September 11th didn't just attack buildings; it shattered the illusion that normal was permanent.
The Beautiful Aftermath
What happened in the days that followed still takes my breath away.
I had never seen America more patriotic, but it wasn't the divisive, angry patriotism we sometimes see today. It was something pure and unifying. Flags appeared on every house, not as political statements, but as expressions of shared identity and shared grief.
People talked to their neighbors - actually talked to them. At the grocery store, strangers made eye contact and asked how each other were doing. The usual rush and indifference that characterizes so much of modern life just... paused.
Churches filled with people who hadn't been in years. Families had dinner together without the TV on. Kids played outside while parents sat on porches, actually present with each other instead of buried in distractions that suddenly seemed insignificant.
For a brief, shining moment, we remembered what mattered. Not our individual anxieties and ambitions, but our connections to each other. Not our political differences, but our shared humanity. Not our endless pursuit of more, but our gratitude for what we had.
It's heartbreaking that it took such devastating tragedy to remind us who we really are.
Finding That Frequency Again
Faith is what steadies us when the world tilts off its axis. That morning taught me that faith isn’t only about religion - it’s about trust in each other, in resilience, and in the possibility that hope can rise from ashes.
Twenty-four years later, as I think about that sophomore who watched the world change, I wonder what he would think of where we are now. We've returned to our distractions, our divisions, our individual pursuits. The clarity that 9/11 brought has faded back into the static of daily life.
But here's what I learned that September morning: the capacity for that kind of presence, that kind of unity, that kind of clarity about what truly matters - it's still there. We don't have to wait for tragedy to access it.
Every day offers us small opportunities to stop. To really see the people around us. To remember that beneath all our surface differences and daily dramas, we're connected by something deeper than our disagreements.
When workplace stress overwhelms me, when I get caught up in petty frustrations or endless scrolling, when the noise of modern life drowns out what's important, I try to remember that September morning. Not the tragedy, but the clarity. Not the fear, but the way we came together.
The Lessons That Remain
That scared but posturing teenager learned something profound that day: when everything else falls away, what remains is what matters most. Love. Connection. Service to something bigger than yourself. The simple but revolutionary act of being present with other people.
We learned that heroes aren't just in movies - they're the firefighters running up those stairs, the passengers on Flight 93 who said "let's roll," the ordinary people who chose courage when everything around them was falling apart.
We learned that American strength isn't found in our ability to avoid suffering, but in how we respond to it together.
We also learned that faith shows up in many forms - in the courage of first responders, in the prayers whispered across living rooms, and in the quiet belief that light can emerge even from unimaginable darkness.
Most importantly, we learned that life can change in an instant, which means the moment we're in right now - this conversation, this breath, this chance to be kind to someone - is precious beyond measure.
Today's Invitation
I don't want to wait for another national tragedy to remember these lessons. I don't want to need the world to stop for me to pay attention to what's actually important.
So today, on this anniversary, I'm making a choice. I'm choosing to turn off the distractions for a while. To call someone I care about just to hear their voice. To thank a first responder. To look my neighbors in the eye and really see them.
I'm choosing to remember that beneath all the noise and division and daily frustrations, we're still the same people who came together on September 12th, 2001. We still have that capacity for unity, for kindness, for focusing on what truly matters.
We just have to choose it.
The frequency is still there, broadcasting hope and connection and the radical possibility that we can be better together than we are apart. We just have to tune in.
Today, I remember not just what we lost on 9/11, but what we found in each other in the days that followed. On this 24th anniversary, I hold to the frequency of faith - the reminder that even when the world feels fractured, we are never beyond the reach of love, hope, and connection.
How will you honor both the memory and the lessons of that day?
With love,
Eugene 🌿
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