IT WAS one of those days when we all remember where we were and what we were doing – history in the making, September 11, 2001.

American Greg Whitfield has sent the Post a piece written by his mother, Roberta Whitfield, about that day, 9/11.

“Having twice visited Petersfield ourselves in the past ten years, my wife and I share my parents’ fondness for the place. We are so grateful that they were there on that tragic day 15 years ago. Her words describing those events continue to resonate with us.

“We hope you can share this with your readers. We think they might enjoy knowing how much they mean to us Texans.”

Roberta wrote: “September 11 began as a very happy day for Ray Whitfield, me and my brother, Al Raithel. Mary, our good friend and former neighbour in previous stays in Sheet at the Vicarage, was having us for a luncheon with a few friends at her new home in Petersfield.

"The luncheon was magnificent as were Mary’s garden and friends. Conversation was warm, friendly, full of smiles and laughter - everything that one could hope for when good friends get together.

“Just as we were finishing dessert and winding down, the telephone rang and one of Mary’s prayer group members said: ‘Start praying for America and turn on your telly.’ Then the laughter ceased and a grim shock set in.

"BBC had begun its excellent coverage immediately, even before the second plane hit the second tower. We sat uncomprehending, mesmerized by a surreal feeling that surely what we were seeing wasn’t what we were seeing. But it was real; it was happening - and what it was all about, we did not know.

“Everyone hugged us and said that they understood the feelings that we were having and would have in the future. Most of them had been in the Battle of Britain bombings of World War II and all had experienced the terrorism of the IRA - they understood what we were going through.

"They hugged us and let us sit in silence, sorting things out as best we could inwardly, without the pressure of having to make any great pronouncements about what was happening. They seemed to understand, even better than we, that this was a time for silence.

“I do not remember how or when we got from Mary’s back to our friend Sheila’s, where we were staying but we seemed to go from one television set to the next. Again, BBC’s coverage was brilliant.

“Then a remarkable set of actions began: Petersfield began, almost like a campaign, to try to strengthen us and surround us with love and support. And not just the three of us personally but also, in a way, reaching out to the whole USA and any other Americans who might be there.

"I do not know at what point they began to realize their own staggering British losses in the attacks but initially their efforts seemed towards helping us to deal with the situation.

“Sheila’s doorbell would ring and there would stand an unknown child, hand-delivering a note to us from some friend, giving us condolences, sympathy and empathy.

"People, who were normally quite reserved, would give us hugs when they saw us. Friends, such as Chris and Ian, Martin and Ginny, Marguerite, Ron, Doug, Peter and Sandy, Joan and Ambrose, Rita and Ian, Cynthia, Phyllida, Joan, others, and always, of course, Sheila and Mary, began to invite us and take us to places of beauty and interest to get our minds off the constant though that one really cannot escape when tragedy strikes.

“An amazing thing happened in the little downtown of Petersfield. The trees that were along the sidewalks suddenly appeared with little American flags on them.

“We never saw any for sale so we have no idea where they came from. Moreover, people began to put cellophane-wrapped flowers, as they did at Diana’s death around Buckingham Palace, around those trees.

“Whenever we saw them, we were deeply moved to tears and lumps in our throats. They were expressions so kind and so unexpected and so giving.

“We could not help but feel that next to our home in Texas, we would always feel closer to Petersfield than to anywhere else on earth that we had lived in or visited.

The town’s Prayer Service and the Sunday Holy Eucharist that we attended at Mary Magdalene’s at Sheet further embedded these feelings. As we went up to the altar rail to receive Holy Communion, we passed a little table with a bowl and a vase of blood-red roses, a red,white and blue candle burning and another little American flag. Again, the tears welled up. Such love, such support, such...

“Petersfield was, perhaps, a better place to be than at home because we were not expected to provide solutions nor profound insights. We could walk around the beautiful lake in silence, trying to sort things out and to make sense of the situation.

“Petersfield taught us to face plane flights, travel, Moslems and the future as we always had: without fear and with love for those whose path we cross, delighting in differences and learning about other places, and all with deep gratitude.

"Some neighbors back home asked us recently: ’You two have been in over a hundred countries in the world so if you could live anywhere else besides here, where would it be?’

"We thought for a moment and said: ’Petersfield’

"’Where is that?’ they queried and then added: ’We thought you would have said artistic Florence, Italy?’

"We smiled and thought but they don’t know about Flora Twort, the Norman arch nor ’our’ equestrian William III statue.

"But they’re not the real reasons!"