911 A Year Later

I know I haven’t written much about September 11, 2001.  The reason is straightforward.  I haven’t come to grips with what I feel about it, until about now.  The facts are obvious and have been stated thousands of times:  Four planes, three buildings, around 2,100 souls. And the most grievous mortality: Our innocence.

Until that day, bad things happened in distant lands or randomly as part of the wheel of life.  On that Tuesday bad things happened to all of us.  Most of us sat there with open mouths not believing what we were seeing.  The not knowing and not understanding, then the sudden realization that ‘they’ wanted to hurt us.  As bad as the monster under the bed, or the anonymous ‘them’ out there, ‘they’ terrified us and then scarred us forever.

Now, the senseless, violent, randomly brutal, gory and visceral fear that so many other humans live under every hour of their lives, is here, at home, inside of all of us.  We wait for the next shoe to drop.

That fear is, at its heart, the aim of a terrorist.  To make everyone fearful of their next step.  It is why the IRA or Hezbollah uses car bombs, or armies use land mines, or a mugger has their hand thrust in their pocket.  It is the potential of violence made real to us.

I’ve thought about this for a lengthy while.  My conclusion is actually simple.  I refuse to be afraid.  This is how we defeat ‘them’ or ‘it’ or whatever name you care to call it.  If they can’t make us afraid, then they’ve lost and we’ve won.

To that end, I also choose to cherish every day and every minute, without being afraid of anything or anyone. 

I can’t think of any other way to honour the innocents who perished, except by going about my business, unafraid.  We win.  They lose.  Now, let’s go and find the perpetrators.  Then kill them.  Simple as that.