September 11

All day yesterday I debated taking the children to see a Sept 11 film being shown at a nearby college. While I didn’t want to expose them to graphic images that would give them nightmares, I wanted to see some of the footage of that day for myself. I recall sitting at the kitchen table listening to the radio 7 years ago and hearing the news reporters make one gasping announcement after another, “A plane has struck the second tower!” and later, “One of the World Trade Towers has collapsed!” Back then I was grateful to be spared seeing live video, but I felt it was time to look back and remember.

Our lives were in a transition that week, having just picked Tim up at the Norfolk Naval Base airport a few days before. The kids and I had come back from Italy in May, packing up before late summer when all Italians go on vacation themselves and getting a crew to show up is next to impossible. The plan was to set out on a trip to Maine before Tim had to check in at his new command on a amphibious ship. We figured on going to the fair, eating lobster, and taking long walks on the rocky beach before gearing up for an inevitable deployment. I remember driving up along the highways in New Jersey seeing Old Glory tacked up at every overpass, but that was nothing compared to the hundreds of American flags displayed along Route 1 once we crossed over into Maine. Every town was lined with tiny flags in their yard, a witness to the patriotism of people who named towns founded during the War between the States Union and Freedom, Liberty and Unity.

So, last night I was a little apprehensive about how I was going to cover 5 pairs of eyes with only two hands, but I needn’t have worried. The film was very artsy, only showing the attack itself for a few moments before focusing on the ash and paper debris, the burned out cars and buildings, the exhausted firefighters walking around in a maze with no one to rescue for the next 40 minutes. There was no talking, no description of the other crashes that day, no record of heroism, or even mention of the 3000 people killed by Islamic fanatics. It was a strange and disappointing movie, but I was grateful we took time out of our day to play patriotic music and sing along loudly in the car, to pray for the souls of the departed and their families still mourning, and to remember the sacrifices of our soldiers fighting overseas so we have do not have another terrorist attack on our soil.

My country,' tis of thee,

sweet land of liberty,

of thee I sing;

land where my fathers died,

land of the pilgrims' pride,

from every mountainside

let freedom ring!

My native country, thee,

land of the noble free,

thy name I love;

I love thy rocks and rills,

thy woods and templed hills;

my heart with rapture thrills,

like that above.

Let music swell the breeze,

and ring from all the trees

sweet freedom's song;

let mortal tongues awake;

let all that breathe partake;

let rocks their silence break,

the sound prolong.

Our fathers' God, to thee,

author of liberty,

to thee we sing;

long may our land be bright

with freedom's holy light;

protect us by thy might,

great God, our King.