There are very few moments in my life where I remember exactly where and what I was doing. I am sure that is true for most of us. On September 11, 2001, the clarity of the moment has remained with me for 13 years. I suspect it will ever be so until I either lose mental capacity or pass away. On that day, I was out working in northern California as a missionary for my Church. I was 21 months into my mission and beginning to the inevitable countdown of when I would return once more to “the world.”

I had been sent to the Placerville and Diamond Springs wards to work with my MTC roommate, Elder Welles from Georgia. We were living in an apartment with another two missionaries. For several weeks Elder Welles and I planned to go to the Buttercup Pantry restaurant in Placerville for all you can eat pancake breakfast. Strictly speaking, our schedule never allowed this because it was eat, exercise and study until leaving at 10 or so for work every day. That day, however, we bent the rules and left our apartment early. Two southern boys in California eating an all you can eat pancake breakfast. My memory of those pancakes were that they were disappointing.

While eating, I overheard the remarks of a man at the next table. He was an older man, a veteran, as indicated by VFW cap he wore. He said to his companion that this was the worst day in American history, even worse than Pearl Harbor. I looked at Welles, got up and asked the man what he was talking about. I still remember his exact reply, “New York has been bombed.” It was 9:54 in the morning, Pacific Time. At the time, we didn’t understand his exact meaning. We quickly paid for our now even more tasteless pancakes and rushed home.

Upon entering the apartment, one of the other missionaries, Elder Felder, was on the phone and said, “Elders, Salt Lake is looking for you.” While he was being overly dramatic, it is true that we should have been in our apartment at the time. Our breaking this rule had later repercussions immaterial to this post, but it did cause quite a bit of anxiety for our office. Because we were cut off from communications, we still did not really know what was going on. We knew that US would be going to war over this, but were unsure what it would mean to us personally. Naturally, the speculation was thick. Around 2 pm, Elder Cho, our district leader, called a meeting and informed us of the day’s events. For the next two days, we broke another rule by going to a local member’s house and watching the news. I do not regret that, as my mind had been diverted from the work. It took several days to get back into the missionary mindset, set aside our collective tragedy, and finish the task the Lord had set out for me.