nmah2968.xml

nmah2968.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-09-10

As most people will remember, Sept. 11, 2001 was a brilliant early fall morning. The sky was achingly blue and the colors were just beginning to show themselves. I never have TV on during the day and I had just turned off NPR's Early Edition so that I could do some paper work at my desk. (I am a retired university administrator.) I received a frantic call from my neighbor who was so distraught it was hard to understand what she was telling me. But I gathered enough to know that I should immediately turn on the TV. What I saw was so ghastly that one could not believe it was real. I was watching when the 2nd plane struck the Twin Towers. And I saw the buildings come down. I was watching when the news came that a plane had also gone into the Pentagon which is only about 45 minuets from my home in the Maryland suburbs. I felt like that was my back yard. And I heard about the plane crashing in Pennsylvania.

After the initial shock, my first reaction was to locate my daughter who works within walking distance of the White House--would they try to go after that target as well? How blessed I am that, unlike so many others, my daughter was safe and unharmed.

I sat for almost 2 days straight glued to the TV--it was impossible to do anything else. I cried. I sat in shock and then I cried some more. It was especially hard when I heard the family members begging for news of their parents, spouses, children, siblings, fiances, best friends, co-workers. My mind kept telling me that it was unhealthy to sit so transfixed, that I needed to go out, to do something else. But it seemed impossible to not be a part. I tried to give blood, but was turned down for health reasons. I offered my services as a counselor, but did not have the proper Red Cross training. I prayed and wrote in my journal, and talked to my children, and thanked God that I still had them.

About a week later I had to drive to Virginia to visit my daughter and my route took me right past the Pentagon. I was not prepared for my reaction. I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach and I burst into tears as I was driving past. I took an alternate route home, one that was much longer, because I just could not face the sight again.

The cruelty, the dispassionate planning of so many deaths, the sudden and inexplicable annihialation of so many innocent people--people like my neighbors, my sisters, my children, my friends, my neices and nephews seemed more than anyone should be expected to bear. And yet I did believe that we would go on. We would survive. Yes, it's easy for me to be philosophical as I did not have my heart broken. I prayed for those whose lives had been devasted by loss and I still do.

I spend a lot of time trying to reconcile the Gospel message of forgiveness, of peace, with what our government is doing in the name of fighting terrorism. I worry a lot about what my response should be, what is the moral reaction that is called for? I have not altered my daily routine and I don't think about how my loved ones or I might be involved in an attack. This is not how I choose to live my life. I do admit to looking at planes when I hear them in the sky. Since I live fairly close to Andrews Air Force Base, I do hear many helicopters and I find myself wondering if something has happened and the young men and women are responding.

I think we should remember the extraordinary bravery of the rescue workers, the spontaneous kindness of strangers to strangers. Someone from the New York-based Humane Society, thought about the little pets stranded in the apartments in the vicinity of the Trade Center and made some efforts to rescue them. People brought food to the rescue workers, both in New York and at the Pentagon. To me that's where God is--in the relationships that sprang up and sustained the wounded.

No, I did not fly a flag because it seemed to me that it was an expression of some kind of jingoistic emotion that might become something which I do not believe the flag stands for. I had no urge to display the flag for that matter. When I am at any kind of event at which the "Star Spangled Banner" is sung and the flag is displayed, I always stand with my hand over my heart. But this was different. My love of my country and my grief for those suffering and so unjustly and grievously harmed is deeper than the flag could represent.