Anniversaries pile up on us as we get older. Birthdays, wedding anniversaries, the days of our beloveds’ passings, other significant events accumulate until the calendar seems to hold nothing else. We’re chided about forgetting them, sometimes very harshly. We’re asked what we’ll do to commemorate the ones we remember.
This whole year has been treated as an anniversary: the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, which the late Gene Burns called the birth document of our nation. In truth, it announced our political separation from the Crown of England and proclaimed the thirteen original colonies to be “free and independent states,” but that’s mostly word-mincing. George Washington led a unified army against the British, and there was little doubt that the liberated colonies would unite politically after the Revolution was won.
But today, specifically, is an anniversary of another sort.
I have no fresh fountain of words to spew about Black Tuesday, September 11, 2001. I’ve emitted enough verbiage on that subject over the years behind us. If you’d like to pick at some leftovers, nibble on these. I have nothing new to say about it.
The date remains vivid in my recollection for both historical and personal reasons. I’m sure it will remain so for as long as I live.
I lost friends on that day twenty-five years ago. Of course, many other Americans could say the same. I have no idea whether the day remains as vivid for them as it does for me. It’s a subject I’m reluctant to broach.
Today, in this Year of Our Lord 2026, we’re not the nation we were back then. We were united, animated, energized. We were ready to put forth our power to take vengeance, to slay and spare not. We could have taught the whole would the unwisdom of striking the United States of America. We could have made it a lesson that would ring down the centuries.
Needless to say, we didn’t. We restrained ourselves. President George W. Bush, a good man if a so-so president, limited our counterstrike to the nation that harbored the architect of the atrocity. No doubt he felt that wholesale slaughter would be morally and geopolitically wrong. I haven’t got it in me to argue with his decisions.
But from where I sit this morning, it looks like those who struck us are winning.
A memorial event has been scheduled for later today, at the World Trade Center site. I can’t be there, and in truth I wouldn’t attend even if I were capable. Perhaps some of my Gentle Readers will go. If so, please let me know about the mood of those that gather there. Bloodthirsty? Weary? Defeated? What and who are we today, anyway?
And however you choose to spend the twenty-fifth anniversary of the greatest atrocity ever inflicted upon these United States of America, the day nearly three thousand American lives were ended by murderous Muslim savages in service to the most violent and primitive creed ever foisted upon men, the day that Muslims here and elsewhere were seen celebrating the deaths of our countrymen and the destruction of New York City’s proudest edifice… well, do have a nice day.
1 comment:
Francis, I spend this day remembering where I was and what I did and felt and saw. We worked in Attleboro Massachusetts which was in the flight path of at least one of those fateful planes. I was sitting in my cube when somebody screamed - "they hit the tower!"
I did not know at the time it would be the worst day in this nations collective soul. We found a TV and used a coat hanger as an antenna and all piled into a conference room to watch the terrible events unfold. We looked at each other with blank stares - it is not possible. But, it was possible and we had only been fooling ourselves that we were immune.
I left that room and went outside. The sky was crystal clear and a blue I had never seen before - azure and beautifully clear. It was almost as if the Lord was cleaning it up.
Since that day I have had many thoughts about not only the terrorists who did it but, the feckless jackasses who not only allowed it to happen but, even encouraged it. We now know CIA was aware, DOD was aware and some was kept from Bush - some not. We still do not know the "full story" and thanks to lying journos and backstabbing pols we may never know it.
I try to not allow this to cloud my emotions on this solemn day but, it is growing more difficult. Please reflect on those lost at 8:46, when the first plane hit and started this awful day. I have no tears left - only regrets that I did not and could not do more.
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