Today is the 20th anniversary of the terrorist attacks on New York City, the Pentagon, and in the fields near Shanksville, PA. I feel the need to acknowledge this day.
Do you remember where you were? I do.
I will never forget.
I worked for Home and Hospice Care of Rhode Island. It wasn’t even 9:00 when our staff meeting agenda had been abandoned in favor of determining how we could organize our clinical and spiritual staff to deliver aid and comfort after this disaster. It had only been “a small plane” according to the first reports – but we could see immediately that NYC resources would be overrun with need that could use our assistance.
Then the second plane flew into the cameras’ view – as we watched in shock. We knew that this was not a mistake or an accident. We knew that it was a deliberate attack – and soon learned that there were others in this orchestrated event.
There were so many victims that day…and so many others who woke up that morning and did not even realize that they would be heroes that day.
I pray for them…still. I pray for the survivors…still.
Our country emerged with the strongest American identity I have ever witnessed. We were not hyphenated Americans that day – no Irish-Americans, or African-Americans, or Asian-Americans. We were just Americans. We held each other as community.
Flags were flown. We nodded to each other in recognition of our collective grief – our sadness. We helped. We prayed. We grieved…together.
I prayed that what I saw was real. That we were kind – and did not hate people in our midst who might be that unknown enemy. But I know that it has not been that way. Part of grief is anger. But I fear that we projected blame on groups that were as aggrieved as all of us were.
And so even when it was our generations’ turn, I saw that we could have reverted to WWII Japanese internment camps – house arrest for German and Italian Americans who held jobs and skills that could have been a weapon rather than a help – but with new tenants. We were afraid and we blamed.
And none of that honors those lost on that day…or those who have ever been lost in the defense of our country.
So, on this anniversary, this is my prayer: That we hold ourselves to a higher standard. That we do not strike out in fear – or hate – but that we thoughtfully and with deep reflection preserve and protect this country that provides so many freedoms. That we demand that the freedoms afforded to most of us are afforded to ALL of us.
I pray that we are not lost to our enemies – external and, worse, internal. I pray that we fight when it is needed. And that we withhold that fight until it is the right one to wage. That we have the wisdom to act quickly to contain an evil. That we find that balance.
I pray that we are vigilant…and educated…and self-reflective. That we do not allow the “easy” to become the “accepted”. We must not allow anger to reign. We must not misuse the fighting power of our military and our civil defense in a way that disrespects and ultimately destroys their will and their pride. These individuals self select to provide service to others, with little reward for themselves. They must never be disrespected nor discounted – and yet sometimes we don’t get it right – and the consequences are terrible.
I pray that we continue to aspire to this American standard of behavior. It is such a high standard because great responsibility comes with freedom.
And I pray that we pay the debts owed: to those who have created and defended this country and our way of life in the past – and perhaps even more, to those who will inherit it and its great responsibility in the future.
Never forget.
