My brain is sorta scrambled right now, as I try to convey here what is in my head and what is in my heart. Of course 10 years ago that day was horrific, the single most terrifying day of my entire life, but to say those words doesn't do it justice. I was convinced we were at the brink of a world war, that the world would never be the same again. I kept asking myself "Is this why I brought this beautiful child into the world? Is this the world I wanted him born into? Is he about to die a toddler?". I, like everyone else in this country and around the world, knew things would never be the same, they could never be the same. There is no way that, down to a person, anybody who saw even 10 minutes of what happened that day could go back to a normal life or what passed for normal before that day. We're a stronger people now, our eyes have been opened and we know for a certainty that yes, we're strong but we're not anymore invincible than any other country in this world. It was in how we reacted to the attack that I think separated us from the rest. I don't say that with blushes or excess pride, I really think we came together as a people and overcame everything that the terrorists had tried to do. Yes lots of people died but they didn't die in vain. We remember them, we honour them, we teach our kids about their bravery. We cried together, we mourned together and we became a stronger nation together. I'm still convinced going to war with Iraq was the lousiest thing to ever happen, especially as it was done under pretense and lies, but this isn't that sort of blog I want to do tonight. I want to honour those who lost their lives and the families they left behind, especially those children who were born that never knew a parent because he/she died that day for no damned reason other than because the devil himself thought he was going to send us a message. Sure we got the message, how do you like hell? Was it a good homecoming? I'm not an overly religious person but there are things I believe in with all my heart and one of those things is knowing that that bastard, who will not be honoured with me typing the letters of his name, is burning in hell...even if it's a metaphoric sort of burning.
The things that have stuck with me from that day are how otherwise ordinary human beings turned into honest to God heroes right before our eyes. It happened with every firefighter in NYC who charged towards the one area in the world that everyone else was desperate to get away from. It happened when an airplane was taken back and crashed into the ground instead of our country's capital or the White House. It is in the policemen/women who tried, with their last breath, to save just one more person. It was in the firemen/women and police from all over this country who packed a suitcase, hugged their family farewell as they headed towards ground zero to assist those who needed their help in the massive clean up. My pride knew no bounds watching Chicago firemen pack up their lives and go to help their brothers and sisters in NYC when they needed that help more than they needed that next breath. I listened to a guy yesterday on my local news special say how he went out there to help, himself a fireman, and how he had to call it a day on New Years Eve that year, he simply could not take anymore. He took more than I ever would be strong enough to take.
For me I have to say I was maybe most humbled by the ordinary men who, on Flight 93, took back their destiny and said to their murderers "We will not die how you're telling us to die, we will die to make sure nobody else but us dies.". Those men could have sat horrified in their seats and let the terrorists do what they had planned to do but they didn't. They weren't trained to be heroes, they came into it naturally. Like I always say, "Their mama's raised them up right.". I feel it deep in my soul the loss their families must still feel, the pain and anger, but they can go to bed at night knowing this world is a better place for their son's. Can you imagine if that plane would have crashed in to our biggest symbol of freedom, the White House? That day was horrific enough, we did not need to have that happen too. I can honestly say I do not think I'd have it in me to do anything other than cry in that sort of situation. Those men will forever be the biggest heroes of that day.
I know the tears will flow tomorrow, they've been flowing since yesterday, it's only natural. But let there come a time in the coming day when we dry those tears and those of the people around us and remind the rest of the world what it is to be an American. Lets remind the world why so many come to this country to start a fresh, new life. We owe it to those who died that day, not because they deserved it or because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time but because they died American. Lets never forget the sight of people jumping from 70+ floors up in the WTC building's because they retook their destiny back from the evil, twisted terrorists who only knew how to hate. They are jealous of us, of what we have, but instead of striving for what we have they seek out to destroy it. We can't let them win or forget what it is to have Americans as enemies.
I wonder what sort of remembrances will continue every year after tomorrow comes and goes because lets face it, sure we remember D-Day but we don't really think of the horror of that day do we? I wasn't even alive, my mother wasn't even alive when that happened, it's a concept that, until 2001, was unfathomable. Unfortunately we learned really damned quick what they felt watching Pearl Harbour being attacked so lets make sure that every year we honour our country and...well US! We deserve it, we're great, we're American!
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