After the attacks:
A Week in the Life of a Managing Editor & Minister
By Frank “Buzz” Trexler

As I headed for a shower the morning of Tuesday, Sept. 11, the phone rang. Caller ID read “Sea Ray,” which I knew would be my wife, Donna.

When I answered, she was quick and to the point: “I was listening to Kathy Riley’s radio and two planes have hit the World Trade Center! Have you got the news on?”

I had been watching it nearly all morning, but something had happened in the brief time I wasn’t watching — something that would turn out to be unbelievable except in the realm of Tom Clancy novels.

I turned on the bedroom TV just in time to see a video replay of the second plane crashing into one of the towers. Like the rest of the world, I watched in disbelief. Time seemed to suspend itself; I barely heard the words of the commentator. I looked at the clock: It was 9:15 a.m. I immediately called Executive Editor Larry Aldridge, who agreed that we needed to add pages to the next day’s edition.

In the shower, I sobbed, prayed and washed as CNN churned out the news in the background.

I made it into The Daily Times newsroom around 9:45. After more than 20 years in the business, certain instincts take over. As a journalist, I know how to respond when stories break locally, as well as what to do when they break far from home. But this one was, and is, different: It keeps breaking, and breaking, and breaking …

On Sept. 11, after two hours of an onslaught of images, breaking details and newsroom decisions, I was already feeling overwhelmed.

I spoke to no one as I headed for the side door and the sanctuary of Broadway United Methodist Church across the street. Like millions of other people, over the coming days I would find the respite of prayer an indispensable part of daily life.

As a Christian, I know the mechanics of response in times of stress: I go to God in prayer. In this situation, it’s much too early to describe the response of my heart. I’m still working that out in prayer.

After 16 hours, our first edition of the terrorist attack on America rolled off the talks with news press. Eight hours later, in the light of another day, I returned to the newsroom.

As I watched the news continue to unfold on Day 2, another realization hit me: There was another task ahead of me, that of caring for the flock at Pellissippi United Methodist Church. My other job is that of part-time pastor at a small community of worship in West Knoxville.

Phone calls were made to a couple of church leaders. “You’ve got a big job to do at the newspaper,” one of them told me. That is true, but after only 11 weeks on the job at Pellissippi — my first appointment — I wanted to be sure the needs of the congregation were met. Both Pellissippi members assured me they would keep their ear to the ground concerning needs.

Day 2, Wednesday, was another 16-hour day at The Daily Times. Early in the day, it became clear that Pellissippi UMC needed to join others in gathering for prayer that evening.

After pouring through some resources, I settled on a “Service of Light” where seven candles were lighted followed by responses. The gathering was small, but heading back to the newsroom I felt refreshed.

As I write this, Day 3, Thursday, remains something of a blur. On Day 4, the National Day of Prayer and Remembrance on Friday, I prepared another brief prayer service and headed for the church. Driving my wife’s van, I was about two blocks away when I heard a “THUMP!” Wondering if I hit something, I looked in the rearview mirror, but saw nothing.

I could see church member Ryan Satterfield’s truck when I pulled in to the parking lot. As I got out of the van, he said, “Buzz, do you know you have flat tire?”

I looked at the rear driver’s side tire and said, “Now I do.” Ryan said, “You go on, I’ll take care of it.”

It was another small gathering. Later, I realized that the three candles I had placed on the church altar representing the airplanes should have been four. I chalked it up to exhaustion.

Day 5, Saturday, was another time of respite: Practice with the praise band was a time of prayer and worship. I only spent four hours in the newsroom on that day, then went to an Emmaus Community candlelight service for another time of worship and prayer.

Sunday, Day 6, finally arrived. Part of the worship service involved a ritual of mourning. There were four smaller candles and a Christ candle on the altar, as well as a piece of purple cloth draped around the bottom of the cross. During a liturgy, the purple cloth was torn into four pieces, each representing one of the jetliners. The pieces were draped on the altar.

The service went past the noon hour, but the need was evident.

Returning home, I walked into the den and emptied the contents of my pockets onto their usual place. Donna looked at me and the only words I could utter were, “Now, I can rest.” Rest, and pray that the story will soon end.

Buzz Trexler is managing editor at The (Maryville, TN) Daily Times and parttime local pastor at Pellissippi UMC, Oak Ridge District.

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