Funny, how things can get away from us … like time. Today, as I was writing the date in a museum guest book, I asked innocently enough, what day it is. When one is self-employed, one does not always keep up with such things. The answer came back as, “September the 11th,” and along with it, a flood of memories. That pivotal date of confusion and fear, when our homeland was under attack, will never be erased from memory.
On 9-11-2008, all the immediate tears already have been shed. Some people, who were left widowed, have remarried. The injured have returned to work, in some cases, and the New York site looks as if there had never been buildings there at all.
Many children have to rely on photos to “remember” Daddy or Mommy. In that one day, the dreams and hopes of many individuals were forever dashed, but some lucky ones escaped with their lives and the terrifying thoughts that they might not see another day.
“Where Were You When The World Stopped Turning?” is a song that we do not hear often now, on the radio. Perhaps it should be played more often.
For many, the nightmare goes on, one begun by religious radicals whose God seems to think it is ok to kill and maim. The war is continued by self-proclaimed Christians who think it is their God-appointed duty to get the bad guys. The only trouble is this: when you are killing children and women, and men who are not of the same ilk as the terrorists, then why are you killing, exactly? There have been “mistakes” made, and innocent people have been wounded or slaughtered on all sides.
Are we fighting wars that cannot be won? How does one define a win, when it comes to death, destruction, and misery? In the end, what has been won? … More disabled veterans to fill up the inadequate military hospitals? More people to lie in a hero’s grave?
I fervently believe that we need to get past all of the stupid rhetoric that politicians throw out there, just to get elected. I don’t mean to sound like Pollyanna when I say that minding one’s own business would be a huge step toward world peace. That is what we are trying to achieve, is it not? I have heard “whirled peas” offered as an alternative. Perhaps we should all get out our blenders. The latter would be easier to achieve.
Driving along the easy back roads of Vermont today, adjacent to babbling brooks and covered bridges, with New England Asters adorning the roadsides, we found our own peace today. We were away from the phone, the computer, and the noise of littering teenagers, cluttering up our front yard and sidewalk with their candy wrappers and debris. Civilization is a good thing, in measured doses.
In 1899, Sam Walter Foss, originally from New Hampshire, wrote a poem in which these recurrent lines are featured: “… let me live by the side of the road, And be a friend to man.” That sounds like an ideal endeavor, were it only possible!
In New York, the congestion of so many people huddled together for work and business made the area a prime target. We can’t crow too loudly about the absence of another attack. Whether we like to give credit or not to the Commander-in chief,” there has not been another hit on American soil since that horrendous day of darkening smoke, when pilots went to heaven to meet their allotted number of virgins, the gift for being villains and killing, en masse, in the name of “religion.”
God bless us and keep us safe from those misguided souls who hate all Americans. If it’s a race for heaven, let’s hope they reach their destination first. Heaven can wait!
