I don’t suppose I will ever forget the events of September 11th 2001, nor will I lose memory of the lingering months that followed. I was a young woman in my twenties from a small, Southern town, and I was enjoying my first year in the Navy serving active duty in the state of Maryland. It was an exciting time being in the hustle and bustle so near our Nation’s capital, and although I was in the military I had yet to find myself in any serious situation that could make real to me the sacrifice I had committed to by signing my life to service for my country. In essence I was enjoying traveling, meeting new friends, and seeing the sights. Other than the harsh reality of bootcamp, that I had gotten through and moved past, I saw no reason why my five year contract couldn’t be a cake walk. Free healthcare, room and board, and a paycheck all while traveling the world? Sounded good to me.
I can recall walking downstairs to my husband’s workspace to take a smoke break together on the morning of what is now simply remembered as 9/11. We joked and laughed about this and that as we stood in his back office with hardly a care in the world, but then a coworker turned up the television and said three small words that would begin my little world, and that of so many, turning upside down.
“Oh my God.”
We all watched together as a second plane hit The World Trade Center, and I remember realizing in my gut that something very, very wrong was happening. I think deep down I knew it was just beginning. I remembered the terrorist attack just the year before on the USS Cole, and I felt a chill run down my spine as my eyes met those of my spouse.
“I better go back to my workspace,” I commented absently, and then I hurried off in a cloud of disbelief.
This would begin a day I will never forget, and the end of any young naivety I had regarding the world in which we lived, and for which I had pledged to protect. Back in my own cardiology clinic we watched television with the rest of the world while simultaneously experiencing the impacts in real life. A plane had hit the Pentagon just fifteen minutes from where we were, and friends and fellow service members were stationed there. We’d offer medical assistance to that area while also placing our own base on lockdown and a heightened security level. My emotions that day were surreal, especially when we heard that another plane was headed towards our capital. Although my logical mind told me different, my young, emotional one whispered, “what if that plane is headed here?” It turned out that enlisting in the military didn’t automatically make fear disappear. You still didn’t want to die, and months later when we would deploy to Iraq I would cry on the phone with my mother and father at the idea of being killed in a war on terror.
But that particular day seemed to last forever, from the moment our phones lost a dial tone and we were cut off from the rest of the world, till fifteen hours later when we finally left our base in this strange fog of shock and disbelief for a brief rest at home. Nothing seemed to be the same after that day, and it wasn’t just the extra security we would pass through to get back on base a few hours later. After 9/11 it seemed like the world was shrouded in this thick blanket of depression and grief, but like wayward sunbeams breaking through a dark cloud, isolated rays of hope started to peek through the hurt and pain.
I shall never forget the Presidential Address following those heinous attacks on our soil, and though much of what President Bush stated in the aftermath caused me to want to stand and salute my Commander in Chief, nothing compares to the comaraderie I felt after his first speech. I was proud to be an American, I was proud to be in service defending my country, and I was never more proud of my fellow man.
Last night I was rummaging through Facebook before going to bed, and I came across an arguing, angry, political post plagued with friends feuding against friends over personal injustice as it was seen. It hurt my heart to see how divided as a nation we have become, and I couldn’t get it out of my head even as I drifted off to sleep.
This morning it hit me immediately that today was 9/11, and besides remembering the personal sights I witnessed that day and also months later at Ground Zero, more so I recalled the pride in our country, the unity of purpose, and the deep faith demonstrated as we rebuilt not only buildings, but also a Nation’s spirit following tragedy. We didn’t let Satan win that day, but I think we’ve let him creep in a little bit more and more ever since.
So many of us in this country, men and women, and all races alike, have allowed the devil to stir and cultivate in our minds the issues that separate us as people under God. We focus on our differences, we place magnifying glasses on minor injustice exploding it into something it was never meant to be, and we fall into a trap of division and hate. Fifteen years ago Evil tried to break us with bombs on planes, but we didn’t allow it. Yet now we’re waving our white flag of surrender to the real enemy by allowing our own disagreements to slowly break our country apart from the inside out. I get a mixture of angry and sad each passing year at the number of people who forget the tragedy of 9/11, but what’s even worse is the number of those who forget how unified and strong we were in its aftermath. How do we get back to 9/12? I wish I knew.
In the end, if we do not change our tune, evil will wreak its terrorist attacks on our country. It might just be an inside job rather than what we expect. The devil is sneaky like that. He never wages war in the way we think, but weaves his way slowly into our everyday thoughts and actions until we’re playing right into his hands. I wish it weren’t so.
Perhaps it’s not too late. Perhaps we can remember 9/11, remember the time following, and remember a not too long ago history where we united against evil in our midst rather than joining in its folly. I pray that we can remember. I pray that we can turn back before we’re too far gone.