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Reflections September 2012

Moving On

Never Forgetting

By Patsy Pipkin

Our nation wailed. The people blown to bits were our fellow Americans. Those were our buildings crumbling in our streets. Our firemen and policemen were losing their lives trying to help others. Our planes were grounded, our country in disarray. Yet, we continued.

Most, if not all, Americans can tell you where they were and what they were doing on Tuesday, September 11, 2001. I was wrapped up in my own little world, preparing to host a garden club meeting that afternoon. While sweeping the patio, oblivious to all else, a neighbor hurried toward me saying, “Have you heard the news?”

Not a word. I didn’t know airplanes were crashing into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, or anywhere else.

As the first reports blared from the television, my thoughts were — who hates us this much? What have we done to cause people to want to harm Americans?

One son called, then the other. Both inquiring, “Have you heard from Uncle Steve?” Then an aunt, whom I seldom hear from, asked the same question.

I called my brother, a retired Army colonel who had an office in the Pentagon, but my call couldn’t get through, so I took a chance on e-mail: “Steve, let us hear from you ASAP.”

As the ladies arrived for the club meeting, we sat staring at the television. If I had tried to turn it off, I think somebody would have hit me. Nobody could believe what was happening. Was it Pearl Harbor again, the beginning of World War III? What’s next? Everybody knew somebody who might be right there — in the thick of the destruction. Fear! It’s our homeland. Respond! We must retaliate!

Checking the e-mail again, brother’s answer: “I’m ok, but I have friends burning in the Pentagon. More later, Steve.”

It seemed like everybody knew somebody who might have been in the buildings or on the plane, and even if they couldn’t call the name of someone, they prayed anyway. Our nation wailed. The people blown to bits were our fellow Americans. Those were our buildings crumbling in our streets. Our firemen and policemen were losing their lives trying to help others. Our planes were grounded, our country in disarray. Yet, we continued.

The speaker for the garden club on this fateful day was a representative from the American Red Cross. She asked, “Are you prepared? How are you on survival skills? Do you know CPR?”

Everybody’s thoughts turned to how complacent we, Americans, really are; how much we love and take our safety and freedoms for granted. We discussed how hard it would be to seek out and confront the sources of evil lurking somewhere in the world.

What a time to be reminded of the many times the Red Cross has come to the rescue of people in need. What a time to remind ourselves to stay calm, to be strong.

As soon as the ladies left, Husband and I went quickly to pick up the grandchildren who were to spend the night with us. On the way, we decided to not mention the news unless the children did. Grandson was 11 years old, and granddaughter was eight. They didn’t have to know.

We wanted to protect them. We listened as they played together, smiling at their laughter, then soon we noticed they had brought into the living room a big bag of plastic soldiers that their father and uncle had played with long ago. A lump appeared in my throat, for I knew why they had chosen these particular toys.

They divided the soldiers and prepared for battle. Those little plastic soldiers had been at the bottom of the toy box for a long time, but on September 11, 2001, they became the sought-after toys.

Grandson finally looked up from his “toy” battlefield and said, “Pops, don’t you know what happened today? Airplanes flew into two big buildings in New York and killed lots of people. We saw it on television at school.”

So we turned the TV on and all watched quietly. We will never forget this September of our lives. We prayed for right decisions to be made and we are still praying. We have no heart for “holy” war. In our hearts, no war is “holy.” Let us not allow unholy mass-murderers pull us into their idea of holy war. Let us remain steadfast in our patriotism, our resolve, our determination.

Surely grandparents throughout the world want their children to live peaceful lives. We want them to learn from each other, to respect each other’s culture and religion, and learn to live with their differences.

There seems to be no end in sight, no time to second guess. Some say it will get worse, before it gets better. Our president and leaders have responded the best they knew how, and still our military continues to fight the evil forces. This may be our worst nightmare coming true, but we have faith. We will prevail.

America has shrugged off those chills that ran down its spine 11 years ago, and replaced them with determination. We may have never before known an enemy who hides in shadows and has no regard for human life, but we recognize evil when we see it.

We may not know what the future holds, but this we know, Americans should never be underestimated.

 

Patsy Pipkin writes from her home in Searcy, Arkansas.

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