By Ann Robson/Special to OutreachNC

Most of us remember exactly where we were and what we were doing the morning of Sept. 11, 2001.

We had just left my brother’s home in Ottawa, Canada and were heading to the Canada-USA border at the Thousand Islands crossing. We were listening to CBC radio when there was an abrupt change in tone and the network switched to NPR. At first, we didn’t fully understand the magnitude of the report. Information was still coming in to the network, but before long, the horrible situation became clear.

My brother called to say they’d heard that the borders, particularly the ones with New York were closed and to offer safe haven if we chose to turn around. We weren’t far from the border and we opted to keep going. When we reached the major east-west highway that traverses southern Ontario, we were shocked to see very little traffic on a road that is often swollen with vehicles of all shapes and sizes. Where we pull off for the border exit, the road goes between two huge natural stone walls; there was no other car in sight. It was like a set from an end-of-the-world movie. Our crossing was equally unusual. Often there is quite a wait to go through customs and immigration. That day we were almost alone heading south. Coming north out of New York into Ontario was a very long line of 18-wheelers heading away from unknown danger.

As we cleared the two bridges offering magnificent views of the Thousand Islands and were welcomed to New York by a sign I’ve always taken for granted, I let out a huge sigh and shed a few tears. That was when I knew I really was an American citizen. We still hadn’t seen pictures of the World Trade Center disaster but we knew some very bad people had done something horrible. How dare they!

We stayed with friends that night and got our first glimpse of the devastation and just couldn’t believe what we were seeing. The four of us were as speechless as we’ve ever been when we’re together.

The next morning we opted to continue south but stayed away from major interstates, traveling instead through the beautiful rolling hills of the Finger Lakes area. At every gas station, market stand and small store, we saw signs that had one theme: God Bless America. Less than 24 hours after the disaster, average, hard-working American people were letting their neighbors and the world know that no matter what, they stood by their country. That spirit continued through Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia, Virginia and home to North Carolina. Those are the images of 9/11 that I prefer to keep.

Three years later, I visited Gander, Newfoundland, which played a major role in giving shelter and comfort to 39 heavy aircraft with 6,500 passengers for four days after 9/11. Because New York airspace was closed, more than 200 flights in the air were diverted, many to other Canadian airports. The 10,000 people of Gander pitched in and took care of international and American travelers. They opened their homes, provided food, simple things like laundry facilities and more. Gander has long been an important refueling stop for transatlantic flights. They do not see themselves as heroic, but rather as Newfoundlanders doing what’s right. Those they welcomed have repaid the city with large gifts, such as a high school gym. They have stayed in touch with their hosts. Many have gone back to visit under better circumstances.

That’s the other 9/11 image I carry: good, solid people holding part of the world in their arms.