story8627.xml

story8627.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-11-06

I learned about the attack as it happened as a news flash on a salesman's blackberry pager; not quite believing a voice from across the hall that said the world trade center had been hit by a plane.
We all left the meeting and turned on a television to watch.

As events unfolded, I sat down to write the following letter. I sent it to a local paper but it was never published. I recently sent it to a New York Fireman who was one of the last to be pulled from the rubble. He found it profoundly comforting even a year later. I appreciate this opportunity to share my thoughts of that day. I had originally meant it to be anonymous at the time, the tone of this is clear, but now I feel that somehow that is a form of hiding behind a mass of other voices. It does not matter so much now either way. This is a forum for us to know each other in a way that ties us all together as caring human beings. Long after I am gone, it is comforting to know that someone might find my thoughts, along with so many others, as a testament to the never ending hope for peace. I am prouder now than ever to be an American but I am equally proud to be part of the world community that decries terrorism in any form. My name is Brad Sacha and this is what I thought that day:

"As I listen and watch the news this day, I am profoundly reminded of my place on this earth. I am one of you. And like those of you who wonder why, I breathe and sigh and feel the world change around me as I write. I watch the images as they unfold in an instant media photo shock to the system. My stomach wrenches in unison with you as we all watch the reality of human misery mix with the incredible sights of individual selflessness and the heroism of those living the nightmare of searching for life while dust and fire still swirl around them. I want to be there to dig. I want to help pull rubble off the bodies. I yearn to stand next to you as we carry an unknown face from the heap and place the body on a stretcher so that someone who knows the innocent soul can lay claim and greave with proper respect. We share this desire as surely as we look to our children and savor their existence.

I am far away. I cannot be there. The moment is now and I watch and listen and etch these sights in my memory so that I will remember this day until I die. This is how you feel, I know. We greave and whisper to ourselves that God must know our fear and fate even as we question the motives of a few soulless thralls that are just now burning in the cinders along with the bodies of now ascending angels.

I am just one of you. My emotions now gather in a gale that is joining with yours and gathers strength in a growing storm of resolve. Even as the dust settles on the backs of the rescue workers, we are all seeking a way to fight this terror. It is time to seek each other out and gather ourselves together. Those who still remember the horrors and insanity of World War II will recall this day how they did the same. We must show them that we have the same vision of unity and will not allow ourselves to wallow in fear nor accept defeat. When an enemy has no face when he attacks, his cowardice will be all that is ultimately remembered. Even if he crawls out from a secret place of hiding to taunt aloud, he has already failed.

The world will be in turmoil in the days to come. Yet, I have already seen here in America and on the news around the globe that you, who recognize a universal evil, know that a chance is building. A chance to turn this conflagration not into the dark, misguided revenge of a terrorist but rather into a historic flashpoint remembered by a people that pounded its ashes into a memorial for peace. We all share the ashes of this day. I am just like you.
09-11-01"