A 9-11 Reflection

This piece was originally posted shortly after we began this blog a year ago in a New Jersey hotel room on September tenth. We had driven to New York from Chicago to join with the 9-11 families to demand that The Mayor and assorted elitist asshats stop trying to turn the ground zero memorial into a blame America first monstrosity.

I find myself oddly silent today, without anything new to offer. So without further ado here is one of my earliest pieces written for this blog...



A quiet place

As I stood on hallowed ground, shoulder to shoulder with the grieving, I imagined I could hear singing. Those who had died so horribly within stood remade in celestial bodies. Their voices rang clear and strong as they joined with us to sing God Bless America. Smiles shone from their faces as we fought to make the former World Trade center a fitting resting place for their memories and sacrifice to their nation.

I imagined firemen, policemen, and just plain folks surrounding us as we sang. Their hands linked to form an eternal circle around that place. A place of remembrance. A place dedicated to their memory. Their faces came in a rainbow of hues. I heard different languages as we came to the chorus:God bless America, land that I love Stand beside her and guide her

They no longer worried about jobs and the stresses of daily life, the things that weighed them down as they arrived to work on that fateful day. The things that seemed so very unimportant when history was split cleanly into before and after. They knew the importance of this place. It was all they had left. I don’t know if the families around me felt it. It doesn’t really matter. But, all the same, I hope they feel a sense of comfort when they stand on the bloodstained ground, their voices hushed.

Through the night with the light from above From the mountains To the prairies, To the ocean white with foam God bless America, my home sweet home.

And when people come, through the years, what will we offer? A quiet place where we all might hear the voices of those who fell? Or will they be assaulted by competing voices? Voices who don’t understand what happened on that dark day. Voices who think these blameless folk deserved what they got? We have not yet arrived at a day of pure remembrance. Too much remains to be done. Too many killers must be brought to justice. Too many families are still shattered by the events of that day. But those who have gone before us, those who wait on the other side? They know. They know how important it is. They know we must honor them as a nation.

We must.

*****

What's especially sad to me as I write this today is that ground has yet to be broken on a fitting tribute honoring those who fell on 9-11. This is shameful, build the monument.