9.11 — Unlikely Hero

Sep 11

Sep 11 9.11

On September 11, 2001, we lived in Pensacola, Florida. Tex was stationed at the Naval Air Station, Pensacola, and we lived in housing on base. I was working as the Business Administrator for The Montessori School of Pensacola where all three of our kids were students. There were no televisions at work, and this was before the era of smartphones. I didn’t see the images until later that evening on the news. I knew something horrendous happened in New York but did not fully grasp the gravity of the situation until I saw the news later.

After work, the kids and I piled into our Plymouth Voyager minivan, just like any other day, and headed home. But this was not any other day. As we approached the short bridge that would take us home (unto the base), we noticed that traffic was backed up. This was a first. The short distance to the guard gate that would normally take about two minutes to drive, became a two-hour crawl. As we approached the gate, we realized why. There were newly erected barricades, and fully armed military security forces were meticulously searching every vehicle before it could proceed unto the base. My mind was frantically trying to process what was going on. I had to remain calm. The kids were already impatient with the unusual traffic. I tried to stay relaxed and upbeat reminding them that we live on a military base and I was sure there was a good reason for the wait. I was trying to reassure myself as well. We listened to their favorite music on cassette tapes to pass the time. When our minivan finally approached the barricaded area that was constructed where the guard gate was that morning, I lowered my window, with my military ID in hand. This was the drill every day. I always had my military ID at hand when approaching the gate to the base. The security personnel who approached my window took the ID and kindly asked me to step out of the minivan. The kids, who were 5, 3 and 1, were unstrapped from their car seats. The heavily armed security officers meticulous went through the trunk, the backpacks, the lunchboxes, and everything we had in the vehicle. Once they had done their duty, I was invited to step back into the vehicle and proceed through. We got strapped back into our car seats and seatbelts and I slowly navigated around the barricades that were set up in a staggered, zig zag pattern, clearly designed to unequivocally slow down any approaching vehicle. My hands were shaking, and I was blinking back tears. I was scared and yet felt very safe at the same time. We pulled into our parking space in front of the townhouse that we called home. We unloaded and heading into the house. I tried to call Tex who was still at work, but I did not reach him. I called my parents and turned on the TV. Then I sat in shock and horror as I tried to comprehend what I was seeing and hearing. Our lives changed that day. The world changed that day.

To me, the tragic events of September 11, 2001, are a sobering reminder of the destructive power of hate. When human beings willfully inflict pain, destruction, and devastation on other human beings, you can usually find the telltale residues of hate in the carnage. The reality is that hate doesn’t just happen overnight. It is conceived in the darkness of fear, insecurity, mistrust and misunderstanding. If we are not careful, what starts as a little flicker of disagreement is fanned into a raging inferno of hate that consumes everything in its path. Today, as I reflect on the events of 19 years ago, I can’t help but feel deep sadness. I saw the devastation of hate every time I turned on the news back then, and I see the same insidious outcome of hate on the news today. This is a different kind of devastation. But one that rocks me to the core just the same. There is good news though. We can reject hate and choose love. We can extinguish the flickers of disagreement by taking time to truly listen to each other. We can prevent the destructive wildfire of hate by not giving it oxygen. Instead we can pour out kindness, empathy, patience and forgiveness. The only thing more powerful than hate is love. Love is what we need right now. Lots of it.