I regret that I do not have the two photos I wish to post with this entry. One is of the group of women I was with on the day of September 12, 2011, and the other is explained below. I have just moved to a new place and these particular photos are inaccessible, and my scanner isn't set up yet either.

Still, I needed to write this today.

Yes, my "September 11" story actually took place on September 12, 2011. I was in Australia serving the last few months of an ecclesiastical mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. And Australia is on the other side of the international date line.

Early in the morning my companion and I were awoken by a phone call, perhaps around 5:00 a.m. or so. It was Elizabeth Cinelli, a woman we had been meeting with and teaching about the Church. My companion answered the phone and her words were distressed. The phone call was brief. She simply said she had been up most of the night watching television reports from the States.

"America is under attack," she said. "New York City has been bombed." She then offered distressed, halting condolences. We explained that neither one of us knew of anyone living in New York at that time, but still, it was our home country. Elizabeth called two or three times in the next few hours updating as we continued with our study morning study routine.

The day was a Wednesday, a preparation day, meaning it was the one day of the week we don't have a full proselyting day to take care of personal things such as laundry and letter writing. This was a particularly special preparation day, as a group of women had planned a trip to Syndey (I was serving in an area about 2 hours away from the city) to attend the temple that day.

I think the weather was rainy or overcast. We met up for the carpool, and everyone was talking about it, and as distressed as if it happened to their own country. The feeling in the van was so heavy a few women asked if we could stop talking about it. It was appropriate, and if I remember right, no one spoke the rest of the ride. It was silent, broken only by superficial comments here and there, excepting the religious or classical music pushing low through the speakers.

I felt very, very heavy.

I snapped a photo of the Australian flag at the Sydney Temple at half-mast before we walked in. I recall it seemed to be as low and heavy as felt inside.

The session inside the temple was particularly unique. I felt the presence of many people on the "other side" distressed as well. I am not sure whether I imposed that feeling because of what was happening around me. The thought was that there were many, many people suddenly pushed to the other side and there was a significant amount of sadness, frustration and disorientation.

Strange as it may sound to you, I got the very clear, very distinct feeling that the "other side" (referring to the world on the other side of death) is a place of order, not chaos. And there were those ready to receive them and help them transition to the next phase of their existence. It was rough, as a surge of souls pushed over unexpectedly would be, but all was in order and things were happening as they should be.

That eerie, heavy feeling stayed with me for days. But I was comforted holding on to that impression I received while at the Sydney Temple.

We had dinner that evening at the Craig family's home. The younger kids and I were weary of the heaviness and laughed at silly kid jokes we kept building off each other. The laughing was a good contrast to the rest of the day.

Every time I spoke (since my American accent gave me away) for the next few months until I returned home, I had to explain 1) No, I didn't know anyone, and 2) the distance between where I lived and New York City was about the same distance from Sydney to Perth. We were also instructed to stay away from any American establishment such as large-chain stores, etc. as they could be potential targets. I didn't avoid Subway, however.

Though not particularly significant, it's a little unique since I felt the earth rattle, so to speak, all the way on the other side of the world with our country's friends in the land downunda.