The First Time I Heard a Celia Cruz Song

If you haven't seen Google's homepage today, they did a tribute to Celia Cruz, because it would have been her 88th birthday today. She is regarded as the "Queen of Salsa".

Which is why this is a good time to share the story of the first time I heard one of her songs.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was serving a mission for the LDS Church in Guatemala, and I'd been there for around a year.

On a Mormon mission, usually the leadership moves you to a new city with a new companion every 4-6 months. After two months in the Provo MTC, I'd been in the coastal city Escuintla to start (#1); then Boca del Monte, a suburb of the capital (#2); and now I was serving in a mountain city, Sololá (#3).

When we needed to travel farther than we could walk, we'd either hitchhike in the back of a pick-up truck for a small fee, or use the public transportation--otherwise known as the famed "chicken buses".

Beautiful, aren't they?

Anyway, I'm getting sidetracked laying out the background info.

It was a Monday (our one-day-per-week off from proselyting), and my companion and I were riding on a chicken bus down to Panajachel to hang out with the other missionaries and eat lunch together.

Usually the buses play the radio, which was heavily skewed to Los Tigres del Norte, Hermana Shaki (Shakira), and the Brothers Maná, but a song came on during this ride which I'd never heard before. It was upbeat, catchy, and fun, so I asked my companion if he knew the band or who the guy singing was.

Yep, I asked about "the guy" singing.

We got a good laugh when he didn't know but someone sitting nearby informed us that it was Celia Cruz, a woman famous in the Latin music scene for decades.

I heard that song a lot more during the rest of my time in Guatemala, and I always thought of the funny story of when I first heard it. I'd recommend searching for a song or two of hers on YouTube, like maybe "La Vida Es Un Carnaval".

Listening to it now, I can hear clearly that it's a lady, but I guess my ear wasn't tuned quite right that day.

Happy 88th birthday, Celia. RIP, and thanks for the memory!

Maintaining 9/11 Unity and Patriotism

I was in a foreign land when the 9/11 attacks occurred.

There is a helplessness in being so far away while your countrymen are suffering.
But I knew that people in Ohio and New Mexico and Mississippi and all over my homeland probably felt the same as I did.

And in that desperate moment, our country came together in a way only heartache can cause.

It unified us.

On Sunday, a speaker in church talked about how the Great Depression and WWII galvanized that American population. Their dedication to this country justly earned them Tom Brokaw's praise as 'The Greatest Generation'.

When terrorists carried out their plot eleven years ago, they undoubtedly thought it would be a severe blow to our national pride. While the shocking brutality of their methods may have briefly accomplished that goal, our citizens bounced back with an even greater surge of patriotism and love of country.

So today, as we remember the tragedy of 9/11 in the midst of a political season, I pray that we'll remember we are all Americans, citizens of the United States.

I hope we'll treat each other as fellow patriots.
Even if we don't agree in our opinions, let's be respectful in our discourse.

Let's maintain the unity so tragically awoken in us through lost American lives on 9/11.

My 9/11 Story

Ten years have passed since the 9/11 terrorist attacks.

Everyone has their own story from that terrible day. The previous generation had JFK's assassination and the moon landing; I think we will always remember where we were on 9/11.

I was serving an LDS mission at the time, living in Boca del Monte on the outskirts of Guatemala City, Guatemala. Having been in the country for 6+ months, I felt pretty comfortable and was kind of in a groove.

My companion and I lived in a second floor apartment, with the owner's family living in the main house below. After our morning scripture and language study, we'd gone down for breakfast, which Doña Audi prepared every day.

Soon after we sat down to eat, Doña Audi came in and told us that the morning news was talking about something happening in New York City, and how we needed to see for ourselves. As missionaries, we don't usually watch TV, but it felt like we needed to this time. Maybe 30 seconds after we started watching, the second plane hit. Shocked horror and stunned silence. I couldn't take my eyes away from the broadcast, trying to comprehend what I was seeing.

I remember my feelings clearly, but much of what followed is hazy in my memory. Plane crashes into Pentagon. Phone call from zone leader informing that everyone in our mission was okay, but President Lemmon (mission leader) orders precaution of not leaving the apartment. Flight 93 goes down in the Pennsylvania field. Lots of praying, both verbal and silent. Lots and lots of worrying over family and friends in the U.S. and around the world.

The rest of that day and over the next couple days, we learned more about the attacks from the newspapers and through mission leadership. President Lemmon called individually to make sure we were doing alright and see if we needed anything. That comfort was greatly needed and appreciated by us young boys, serving far from home and family during a time of uncertainty. Receiving a letter from home the next week also helped, because then I knew for sure all of my family was safe.

While I didn't personally lose anyone in the attacks, I still get a bit emotional hearing stories from that day, like the ones recorded (and subsequently animated) by the StoryCorps. Here is one such story:

Sadly, there are far too many stories like this one.

That was a tragic Tuesday, and on this day we unite in memoriam and sorrow with those who lost relatives, loved ones, and friends in the attacks.

We will never forget.