September 12, 2024 • 7 mins
On this episode of Our American Stories, Our American Stories listener Jocelyn Green tells the story of what she learned about faith and friendship after coming in contact with the devastation at the Pentagon—not far from her home.
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Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:10):
This is Lee Habib, and this is our American Stories.
And today, all show long, we're honoring and remembering the
events of September eleventh, two thousand and one. All show long,
you'll be hearing stories from those who witnessed the events
on that day and stories about the events of that day.
Up next to story from Joscelyn Green, who was working
(00:32):
in our nation's capital, Washington, d C. On the morning
of September eleven. Take it away, justin.
Speaker 2 (00:41):
On September eleventh, two thousand and one, I was a
twenty three year old single woman working in Washington, d C.
Just eight blocks from the Capitol. We were in a
staff meeting when the receptionist on duty burst into the
conference room and blurted out they hit the Pentagon. You
can see the smoke from the rooftop. The woman beside
us screamed, and I quietly fought the rising tide of
(01:03):
panic swelling inside my chest. We were told another plane
was headed for us. 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
(01:26):
as news on the television. We heard that a car
bomb detonated at the State Department, that the fourteenth Street
bridge had been blown up, which was our way to
get across the Potomac River and get home. It seemed
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,
(01:48):
she said, but joy comes in the morning, Psalm chapter thirty,
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 a subway train. The attack on
(02:09):
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. The fire still blazed and would
(02:30):
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 pushed the lawn mower across the grass,
I walked through clouds of swirling ash that had carried
on the wind from the Pentagon. The air outside my home.
(02:53):
My home smelled like smoke for at least a week.
Is it any wonder this attack felt personal to me?
It happened in my back yard. 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
(03:14):
was still God, and I still trusted him. The terrorist
attacks were evidence that we live in a fallen world
alongside other sinners. And even as I mourned for those
who lost their lives and mourned for those of us
who lost our sense of safety in our own country,
I recognize that this was not the first time a
terrorist had attacked in certain parts of the world. Terrorism
(03:38):
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 him. No, my faith did
not suffer, but my sense of peace did. A dark
cloud settled over my spirit. In the weeks after September eleventh,
(03:58):
two thousand one. 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
(04:20):
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 it sank 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 as startled, both thinking about how
(04:43):
dangerous a subway station could be if a 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
(05:06):
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 near me squeak. When I
looked up, I saw a girl I went to college
with here. She was looking so out of place in
that somber church, with her eyes dancing and one hand
covering her mouth to keep from giggling. Since I was
(05:28):
her ra in college, we weren't really friends then, but
when I saw her, we hugged and stepped out of
the church and into the sunshine together. She had been
working for her congressman, but wasn't allowed back to work
for weeks because of the anthrax scare and the clean up,
so we had coffee together then Emal. Then I was
going with her on all kinds of trips Mount Vernon, Annapolis,
(05:51):
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 hold of
it and not let go. We still knew life was
(06:14):
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. But you know what,
I saw Bible studies pop up in the offices of
(06:36):
senators and congressmen where 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.
Speaker 1 (06:51):
And a beautiful job on the editing and production by
Monty Montgomery and a special thanks to Jocelyn Green for
sharing her story. Her Washington, d C. Story was in
DC on that day. I was working at CBS, and
you could feel the impact. Terrorism was met with heroism,
Joscelyn said, and what man intended for evil, God used
(07:12):
for good. The story of nine to eleven, A remembrance
of nine to eleven, all show long here on our
American story. Folks, if you love the stories we tell
about this great country, and especially the stories of America's
(07:35):
rich past, know that all of our stories about American history,
from war to innovation, culture and faith, are brought to
us by the great folks at Hillsdale College, a place
where students study all the things that are beautiful in
life and all the things that are good in life.
And if you can't get to Hillsdale, Hillsdale will come
to you with their free and terrific online courses. Go
to Hillsdale dot edu to learn more.
This is Lee Habib, and this is our American Stories.
And today, all show long, we're honoring and remembering the
events of September eleventh, two thousand and one. All show long,
you'll be hearing stories from those who witnessed the events
on that day and stories about the events of that day.
Up next to story from Joscelyn Green, who was working
(00:32):
in our nation's capital, Washington, d C. On the morning
of September eleven. Take it away, justin.
Speaker 2 (00:41):
On September eleventh, two thousand and one, I was a
twenty three year old single woman working in Washington, d C.
Just eight blocks from the Capitol. We were in a
staff meeting when the receptionist on duty burst into the
conference room and blurted out they hit the Pentagon. You
can see the smoke from the rooftop. The woman beside
us screamed, and I quietly fought the rising tide of
(01:03):
panic swelling inside my chest. We were told another plane
was headed for us. 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
(01:26):
as news on the television. We heard that a car
bomb detonated at the State Department, that the fourteenth Street
bridge had been blown up, which was our way to
get across the Potomac River and get home. It seemed
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,
(01:48):
she said, but joy comes in the morning, Psalm chapter thirty,
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 a subway train. The attack on
(02:09):
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. The fire still blazed and would
(02:30):
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 pushed the lawn mower across the grass,
I walked through clouds of swirling ash that had carried
on the wind from the Pentagon. The air outside my home.
(02:53):
My home smelled like smoke for at least a week.
Is it any wonder this attack felt personal to me?
It happened in my back yard. 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
(03:14):
was still God, and I still trusted him. The terrorist
attacks were evidence that we live in a fallen world
alongside other sinners. And even as I mourned for those
who lost their lives and mourned for those of us
who lost our sense of safety in our own country,
I recognize that this was not the first time a
terrorist had attacked in certain parts of the world. Terrorism
(03:38):
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 him. No, my faith did
not suffer, but my sense of peace did. A dark
cloud settled over my spirit. In the weeks after September eleventh,
(03:58):
two thousand one. 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
(04:20):
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 it sank 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 as startled, both thinking about how
(04:43):
dangerous a subway station could be if a 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
(05:06):
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 near me squeak. When I
looked up, I saw a girl I went to college
with here. She was looking so out of place in
that somber church, with her eyes dancing and one hand
covering her mouth to keep from giggling. Since I was
(05:28):
her ra in college, we weren't really friends then, but
when I saw her, we hugged and stepped out of
the church and into the sunshine together. She had been
working for her congressman, but wasn't allowed back to work
for weeks because of the anthrax scare and the clean up,
so we had coffee together then Emal. Then I was
going with her on all kinds of trips Mount Vernon, Annapolis,
(05:51):
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 hold of
it and not let go. We still knew life was
(06:14):
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. But you know what,
I saw Bible studies pop up in the offices of
(06:36):
senators and congressmen where 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.
Speaker 1 (06:51):
And a beautiful job on the editing and production by
Monty Montgomery and a special thanks to Jocelyn Green for
sharing her story. Her Washington, d C. Story was in
DC on that day. I was working at CBS, and
you could feel the impact. Terrorism was met with heroism,
Joscelyn said, and what man intended for evil, God used
(07:12):
for good. The story of nine to eleven, A remembrance
of nine to eleven, all show long here on our
American story. Folks, if you love the stories we tell
about this great country, and especially the stories of America's
(07:35):
rich past, know that all of our stories about American history,
from war to innovation, culture and faith, are brought to
us by the great folks at Hillsdale College, a place
where students study all the things that are beautiful in
life and all the things that are good in life.
And if you can't get to Hillsdale, Hillsdale will come
to you with their free and terrific online courses. Go
to Hillsdale dot edu to learn more.
Host
Lee Habeeb
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