Everyone has their memories of Tuesday, September 11, 2001. I sure do. Here in Texas it was a sunny day. I got up early and checked on my dad who had suffered a stroke earlier that year. He was sleeping peacefully so I prepared coffee. I went outside to retrieve the newspaper and to pet the dog. Star’s nervous running alerted to the fact she was ready for her breakfast. I fed the animals and settled in for a cup of coffee and my daily devotion. The phone rang and disrupted my morning. My brother Tom called and said to turn the tv on. I did so and watched in horror as the world as we knew it changed. Tom walked over from his home next door and together we viewed the unfolding drama and carnage of thousands. As the first building fell Tom stated all those people have died. He shook his head and said little more. There really was nothing to be said.
America got patriotic. It needed to get repentant. Churches filled and people sang God Bless America. Flags waved and endless hours of tv coverage filled the air waves. So many missing. So many dead. The airlines were not allowed to fly, thousands of passengers stranded. Life was stranded. Our day to day existence would never be the same.
So many things we took for granted no longer part of our daily lives. We lost a sense of peace and we were traumatized. A violent act does leave victims in its wake. 9/11 did that. It etched the images of the fallen towers, of brave men on a doomed airline who stormed the cockpit and saved countless lives now became part of us as surely as our right arm.
Families and friends of the victims united in grief and outrage only to learn justice can be slow. It is far slower than the swift action of a demented terrorist with deep pockets. Answers were not to be for many. Bicycles rusted to a post at a rail station stood as a silent testament that many would not be coming home. Lives and years merged, often cemented by tears. Years pass and news of bin Laden’s death rekindled those lives and fanned the flames of moral outrage.
Every year there is a memorial service, many in fact which symbolizes the loss. Fewer attend than did before. It happens. Pearl Harbor now 74 years this December is hardly remembered. In 1955 Pearl Harbor was 14 years ago, just as 9/11 is today in 2015. Hard to believe but there may be a time when 9/11 will be filed away in some dusty cabinet, remembered by those who lived through that Tuesday and then silence?