It’s hard to believe that it’s been eight years since the 9/11 attacks. It seems like only yesterday that I was sitting in front of my TV in my Cookeville apartment, watching in shock, then horror, then disgust, as the Twin Towers collapsed.

It was the worst of times and yet from tragedy came the best of times for America. Eight years removed, it’s easy to forget the fear that most Americans felt that morning and in the days ahead. In fact, to look back on it now makes it seem surreal, if not a little silly. But the fact is that in the immediate aftermath of two planes hitting the World Trade Center and another hitting the Pentagon, no one knew the extent to which these Muslim terrorists would go in their attack. The FAA had grounded all flights, but there was conflicting information on the news networks about how many planes were already in the air. There was conflicting numbers about how many people were inside the towers when the collapse occurred. If most folks had already arrived for work, and if there hadn’t been time for evacuations, given the number inside and outside the tower, it seemed possible that tens of thousands had died. We were sure of only one thing that morning: The U.S. was under attack. And for Americans, that was unprecedented. Even those old enough to remember the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor were more “removed” from the attack than what had happened in NYC and Washington, D.C.

In the days ahead there was the anthrax scare. Young people were talking seriously about the draft for the first time in decades, as the U.S. prepared for war. Horrifying stories were still coming out of Ground Zero on a daily basis.

But I’ll never forget the scenes that began to play out before the sun had set on Sept. 11, 2001. That evening, I decided to drive to Wal-Mart to buy an American flag to hang outside our apartment. When I got there, the shelf was bare. Others had the same idea. It was an impromptu display of patriotism. As I drove back home, I passed the Cookeville town square. And there was a large group of local residents who had gathered for a candlelight vigil. Again, it was impromptu. No one said let’s go buy American flags, or go to the courthouse and hold a candlelight vigil. It was just something people did. That was the day that everyone, from every walk of life, adopted New York City as their hometown.

I didn’t venture outside of Cookeville over the next couple of days. But on Friday — three days after the attack — I had to drive back to the Plateau for a football game. I had fastened a small flag to the radio antenna on my car. When I hit Interstate 40 heading east, I was amazed. Every other car, at least, had an American flag flying. Truckers were honking and waving at drivers with flags on their cars.

To me, that was the amazing part of the entire 9/11 ordeal: The aftermath, and the unity and support of Americans. From the worst of times arose the true spirit of Americans. It was a shame that it took an attack on our nation to do it, and it was a shame that it did not last, but just for a while in September 2001, political differences didn’t much matter. We were no longer conservative or liberal, Republican or Democrat, black or white, northern or southern, redneck or yuppie. We were Americans. It was the first time in my lifetime that I had seen anything like it. I suspect that it was also the last.

If you haven’t, you should listen to the 9/11 tapes released by the FDNY. They are a somber reminder of the magnitude of that morning’s events. Here is a much shorter version (MP3) that I made last year, coupling the pertinent parts with some news clips and President Bush’s remarks.