Sunday, September 11, 2011

Freedom and Vigilance

I wrote the following almost 10 years ago to the hour, after the events of September 11, 2001 had (for the most part) unfolded. The blog didn't exist then, so I simply emailed everyone I knew with it (which I am sure my friends were thrilled about). It was quickly (and effortlessly) eclipsed by other writers with much better thesauruses on their Pentium II desktops.

Looking back at what was ostensibly my first ever blog, I have to admit that some of the things I said still ring true. The venom of terrorism does still run in the blood of Americans. You can see it in anti-Muslim protests and strict pat-downs at airports. The attacks ten years ago cut us deep.

But we did also recover. We have healed (as much as we ever could), and we have grown. The pride that swelled in Americans on September 12 has not dissipated. Every Welcome Home parade, every American flag, every yellow ribbon stands as testament to what was fostered that day.

Still, I think about the non-partisan gathering of our Congress and Senate that day and have to express my disappointment that such displays are relegated to pomp and circumstance rather than ones of true national progress.

Read it for what it was- the emotional, confused ramblings of a 23-year-old assistant manager of a grocery store (soon to be fired). But take it for what it was meant to be- a declaration that freedom is not, nor will it ever be, free.

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Thomas Jefferson once said that "The price of freedom is eternal vigilance." Never has a statement rung true in such a deep way. I'm writing this because this tragic event that has befallen us for some reason touches me deeper than any other I've seen or read about. I feel the need to speak on it. I apologize to those who didn't want this.

It frightens me to the core to think that our way of life is so easily shattered, even here in the Midwest. What frightens me more is the honest feeling that whoever did this isn't done. I spent the entire day replaying in my head the videos I saw this morning. It seemed unreal, unbelievable. I found myself wishing that it hadn't happened. I had no family or friends in either New York or Washington, but I feel deeply for those who did.

As I drove home from work tonight, I listened to a man on Larry King Live describe watching people jump from the highest levels of the World Trade Center and I couldn't stop shivering. Over and over, I see the footage of that second plane cutting through the WTC like a hot knife through so much butter and say to myself, "This has to be from some action movie." But it isn't. And that is what frightens me most: that this is indeed real.

I am forced to question just what it means to live in this country. I've never done that before. To be honest, I have taken it for granted. I have taken for granted every single liberty my ancestors fought and died for. I didn't even vote in the last election. I took something precious and rare and put it on a shelf to collect dust because thinking about it took more than I wanted to give. I regret that almost as much as I regret not being able to help beyond giving a pint of O-negative. The price of freedom IS eternal vigilance and we as a nation have lapsed. Not a lot, but enough to be bitten by a snake whose venom won't be extracted from this nation' veins easily or willingly. We have lapsed simply by forgetting what this nation means to us, to our allies, to our enemies. By us I don't just mean you or me. I mean us as the American people. I remember now. I know I'm not the only one.

That aside, I know we'll bounce back from this. The United States has a distinct reputation of persevering simply out of spite at times, and this, I believe is one of them. Along with visions of 767's flying through skyscrapers, I have two more pictures in my head from September 11, 2001. One is of the entire Senate and House of Representatives gathering on the steps of the Capitol to sing "God Bless America"; for an instant partisan politics were forgotten and all that existed was a group of men and women dedicated to something larger than them.

The other vision came when I was driving home tonight. As I listened to the man describe seeing people jump to their deaths to escape the fire, I looked out my car window and saw on top of the half-finished USD DakotaDome roof an American flag waving in the fading light, almost a middle finger raised to whoever high jacked those planes.

We will definitely recover from this. We as a nation are too outraged to do otherwise. I look forward to justice. What happened today was horrifying and vile. But I think it also showed all of us what it means to be an American. You can go to any number of countries today and find democracy. But there's only one America. Like Bill Murray said in Stripes, we are here because we were kicked out of every other damn country in the world. But this... this is our home. We have made it ours. We will clear away the debris, rebuild our towers and Pentagons, and even put up some monuments. 

But we will also become stronger for our ordeal. This thing touches me deeply for some reason, but I take comfort knowing that whoever did this failed in their objective. I take comfort in knowing that we will survive.

I'm going to bed, now. I am going to sleep and think about anything but today. Then, tomorrow I am going to go about my business as usual. But in the back of my mind will from this day forth always be the imaginary voice of Thomas Jefferson, reminding me about freedom and vigilance.

I don't think I could forget if I wanted to.