Always Remember (sophs and seniors--in class work, NOT a journal)

Just as I (and your parents and grandparents) can remember where we were when we heard of John F. Kennedy's assassination. . . . Just as your great-grandparents can recall the exact moment when news first broke of the Pearl Harbor attack. . . . Now you have a day burned just as deeply into your memory.

You tenth graders were nervous preschoolers. You seniors were skipping off to kindergarten. All over Pike Creek Valley, all over the East Coast, it was a beautiful day that belied the horror that was to come.

And then the world changed, at least our worlds changed, here in America. Our peaceful, protected, safe way of life took a hard right to the head when the towers fell.

I remember living the days after 9-11, if not, in fear, then in at least extreme apprehension. Would there be more attacks? If so, of what type? Could we really protect our homes with enough duct tape and plastic to withstand a "dirty" nuclear bomb? Was our mail system polluted with anthrax, and if so, who was the next target? Did we ever want to get on an airplane again? Or travel to New York City? Or go to any event where large groups of people congregated?

I know that my reaction to that tragedy influenced everything that I did for the following months. My eyes were glued to the television set for news, mostly for assurance, for hope, that things were not as bad as they seemed. For the most part, as each day passed without additional tragedy, America was regaining its wits, and a gradual sense of relief, calm, and safety began to return.

Having seen the images in New York, having heard the many stories of bravery, I developed a keener sense of respect and admiration for firefighters, policemen, and emergency workers of all types. My brother-in-law is a retired Wilmington policeman, a kind man, a gentle loving father of three boys. When he was in uniform with his police radio and weapon, however, he was something altogether different. He's a defender of my city, a protector of the innocent, in pursuit of "bad guys" who would drive drunk, burglarize my home, or worse yet, commit acts of terror in our country. He and many others like him do this so that you can write responses to questions in your journal, so that I can correct errors in dangling participles and wrong tenses, and so that we can try to return to the nicer, safer, more peaceful way of the world that we knew before September 11, 2001.

Billy Collins was poet laureate at the time the Towers fell. One year later, Congress called upon him to perform his laureate duty to compose a poem to honor the 9-11 victims and their survivors. Click this link to listen to him read and talk about his poem, entitled The Names. We will read and talk about this poem in class.

Twelve years later, we do not forget the heroes that fell then. Hopefully, we continue to recognize the heroes that rise and work to protect us now. Prayerfully, we ask God for an end to the violence that plagues our towns and our world. Our thoughts turn now especially to Syria, for an end.to the violence there, so that it does not beget more violence.