Like the day JFK was assassinated, like the day tornadoes swept a nearby community, like the days my sons were born and the day we married--I remember where I was on 9/11.
It seems strange that the year is hardly ever mentioned. Just say "9/11" and the day is burned into our memories.
Me? Oh, I was at work when the first report came in, that there had been a tragic accident in New York City; a plane had flown into the World Trade Center Tower. A few minutes later another...and yet another, closer to home still, just outside of Pittsburgh, PA. In an instant, those invoices didn't need to be tracked anymore. I wanted the safety of my home, the voices of my family, not strangers.
No one panicked. No one fled the offices. No one cried, not then anyway. We clustered around a tiny television, around radios in the far corners. I remember packing my briefcase and slipping out the door. No one noticed.
I got home a few minutes later, still in shock. As I turned the TV from channel to channel, my anger grew with my fear. How dare they? How dare they do this horrible thing in the greatest country on earth? I barely left the sights and sounds of New York for several days. My husband would find me where he had left me. ...watching the news.
The skies were eerily silent and unbroken by jet trails...it was surreal.
Suddenly politics had evaporated for while. People were kinder in their fear. Those who had never offered a hand to fellow man came through. Blood was donated until we realized that no more was needed. Tiny flags sprouted from car antennae and green lawns, larger ones flew from upstairs windows and newly-erected posts. The photo of the fireman holding the child was everywhere. We became one people, one country, for awhile. There were no red states or blue states, for awhile. Everybody knew somebody who knew somebody who had been there. Our anxiety had, in its strange way, made us whole. For awhile.
What happened?
The networks went back to their regularly scheduled programming. Some complained that shabby flags were messing up their manicured spaces. In every city but parts of New York, people went back to work. Planes began to fly. Suspicion of our Muslim co-workers and neighbors took on an air of toxicity that wouldn't have been bred a few months before. The rules changed. The world changed. And not, it is apparent, just for awhile.
Today, we say that security changed because of 9/11. The trust is gone because of 9/11. The taxes are higher, the military is tougher, we need to find this fellow or that one because of 9/11. We make excuses for politics and hate, all in the name of 9/11.
Somebody started the blame game. Instead of being directed where it belonged, to a handful of terrorists who let their idealism threaten our sovereign shores, we listened to those who directed it against us. I find no blame in the workings of the United States. I find the blame in a small group of terrorists who chose to blame us, the USA, for everything they saw wrong in the world.
It became, in some minds, not a tragedy caused by outsiders, but tragedy from within. Instead of bonding as one people under one flag, we allowed a tiny handful of radicals to tear us apart.
The patriotism waned, the flags disappeared, the arguing began again as quickly as it had ended. Worst of all, in a show of utter disrespect, the mayor of New York in his impeccable political correctness, denied the policemen, firemen and clergy attendance at the tenth year 9/11 memorial. I could say I understand, but I don't. The police and firemen should have the largest presence on the podium, the clergy by their sides. How can we come so far as a country and fall so far behind as compassionate citizens?
Yes, I was at work that day, reviewing invoices, counting cases of soft drinks. Others in that office were counting bottle caps for a promotion, tabulating sales of coffee or bread, complaining about the high cost of paper products and theft. It was just a job, nothing memorable. Now that day, that moment, is solidly etched. The nonsense of the day remains as real as the terrorist attack.
I'm not sure I want the world to change so much. I'd like to see us go back to those days of peace and patriotism. Do we have to have another senseless killing to bring us back? Will political correctness become our forever-mantra? Will politics forever try to run our lives?
We the people of these United States cannot allow 9/11 to dictate who we are or how we feel about other human beings. We cannot allow 9/11 to decide how we travel or where we go. We have to respect the way our country responded to that awful day. Our police and firemen, our clergy, the way we held on to each other, the way common man responded to the call to Ground Zero. . .these are moments of pride. The hate, suspicion and political failings that have followed are not worthy of American attention.
Today as we remember 9/11, let us also remember how we felt that day--the love of country, the way we stuck together, the way we revered true heroes-- not the athlete or rock star, but those who gave of themselves to help others in peril.
God bless America, land that I love. Stand beside her and guide her through the night with the light from above. From the mountains to the prairies, to the oceans white with foam...God bless America, my home sweet home.
God bless America, my home sweet home.
No comments:
Post a Comment