Where were you when the world stopped turning on that September day?

Alan Jackson woke up at 4 a.m. on a Sunday in late October 2001, six weeks after the attacks on America.

He had this melody, chorus, and opening

lines running through his head. Alan has told me that he got up, scribbled everything down,

so he wouldn't forget it. The next day, he started to massage and assemble everything together,

the melody, chorus, opening lines, and the visuals that consumed his crippled spirit,

just like the visuals of 9-11 crippled yours and mine.

Twelve hours later, a song was born, a lyrical embrace for our bruised and battered,

crushed, and cast down heartbroken nation.

Twenty years ago, on a beautiful September morning, Americans had not yet considered their answer to a simple and yet very complex question.

Where were you when the world stopped turning? By 1026, with the collapse of the second tower, everyone had an

answer. That wasn't the only question we had, though. There were others, and in Alan Jackson's song,

he's speaking for all of us when he asks, did you weep for the children? Did you rejoice for the

people who walked from the rubble? Did you shout out in anger?

Speak with a stranger. What were you doing? Who were you with? How did you react? Where were you

when the world stopped turning? For weeks afterwards, as we contemplated the smoking pile,

as it was called in Manhattan, we started to learn the answer to some of the questions.

Answers like almost 3,000 people killed, 19 terrorists, four planes, we learned the names of

heroes of the Pentagon, and on that Pennsylvania field.

We also learned 9-11 was the deadliest terrorist attack in American history.

As the workers untangled the debris, the American people went through a process of untangling the answers

to challenging questions about who we had

...