Standing at the 50-yard line, the trumpet player could hear the silence.
It was Ed Reid's job to follow Saturday night's pre-game moment of silence with a trumpet solo lead-in of "The Star-Spangled Banner," but for one moment, he stood with the rest of those assembled at Arizona Stadium in awe.
Reid wasn't nervous. In fact, he said he too busy watching the 47,031 people who stood, motionless, for over a minute before he was to start his moving, one-man tribute to a country that has been too busy listening to the screams and tears of its citizens to take a break.
"That was the most silent I had ever seen a group of people," he said. "I was looking up, and what I remember was looking at all these people in front of me. I couldn't believe how quiet it was."
So the 41-year old associate professor in the music department stepped to the 50-yard line, took a deep breath, and broke the silence.
Reid's solo performance seemed to put an already emotionally fragile crowd over the edge. Some people stood stunned, amazed at the beauty - and simplicity - of the tribute. Others beamed with pride. A student who tried to start a "U-S-A! U-S-A!" chant was quickly silenced when his fellow students - showing a rare moment of restraint - shushed him.
Many of the fans just cried.
A young girl held a tiny American flag with both hands as she bowed her head during both the national anthem and the moment of silence that preceded it.
Members of the "Red Zone" ceased being insane for five minutes, many holding American flags and trying to restrain themselves as tears made the red, white and blue face paint run down their faces.
Senior wide receiver Malosi Leonard, someone who has seen a little bit of everything in his four years as a Wildcat, said he realized the relative insignificance of sports as he watched Reid's tribute to the United States.
"It's still kind of a blur," he said. "(New York City and Washington, D.C.) are so far away that it's kind of hard to imagine. When the national anthem was playing, I realized it was only a game. I realized how lucky we all are to be enjoying a football game."
Not even the performer was spared from the passion of the moment.
Midway through the performance, Reid fell victim to the emotion that seemed to be washing onto the field like a rising tide, hesitant at first but growing with each heartbreaking note.
"Once I was halfway through and I started thinking, it became difficult," he said. "When I finished and heard the crowd, that was very moving for me. I didn't know what to do. There were nearly 50,000 people there, and I was pretty choked up."
The night was especially emotional for Reid, who made extra money while he was in college by driving limousines from Fairfield, Conn., to - of all places - the World Trade Center.
"I went down to Wall Street often enough to know that I didn't like driving down there," he said. "I picked up and dropped off people at the World Trade Center pretty often. I don't know if the average American could imagine just how huge those buildings are."
But Reid said he was only doing what most other Americans have been doing in the nearly two weeks since the terrorist attacks on the nation's most public landmarks.
"I'm 41 - if I could, I'd be on an airplane to Afghanistan as we speak. I would love to help out," he said. "If (playing the national anthem) was my way to help, I'm happy to do that. When you represent your country like this, I can't explain it · it meant so much to me to be asked to do it."
There are sounds that continue to live in the psyche of Americans. The sound of the president addressing a nation in chaos; the sounds of Palestinian children celebrating America's tragedy; the sound of an old woman wailing for her lost son and a young woman screaming for her missing lover; the sound of a firefighter letting long-held tears seep through; the sound of a lone bagpiper playing "Amazing Grace."
But for a moment Saturday night, it was only silence. And one man stood in the middle of it all. Alone.
