I am posting this editorial because I think it is very fitting for today. I hope the author doesn't mind. It was written by MMCM Kirk W. Waldron, United States Navy.
8:46 am, 11 September 2008-09-11
I deliberately chose to start this editorial at this exact time. Dramatic effect or an appropriate time, you can make that decision on your own. For the record, I am a die-hard conservative Republican, strong national defense and traditional family values driven, active duty member of the finest Navy in the world. Twenty-one years of active service with seven 6 month or longer deployments around the world, flying the colors and supporting a war that has been going on for the last 17 years, not just the last 7. In six of those seven deployments, my ship has launched aircraft fully loaded with weapons and recovered them fully unloaded after doing what was necessary to fulfill our orders. I have never cheered or smiled at the thought of what that meant in terms of the toll on human life, but I have never doubted the necessity or the rightness of what I was a part of. My personal politics are derived from my adult life experiences, rooted in the values and teachings of my upbringing, and I don’t feel compelled to justify or apologize for who I am. I do enjoy a good discussion, but today, my politics don’t matter.
From the front door of the office building were I work here in Washington DC, I can see the Washington Monument and the US Capital Building. I can scan across the horizon from those symbols of American pride and point to the exact location of Arlington Cemetery and just down the hill, the Pentagon. Right now, at this exact moment, there is a ceremony going on at the Pentagon. There is a huge flag draped over the side of the building. It covers a new stone wall that replaced the gaping, charred opening blasted into the side of that building by people who saw and still see that massive stone building as the heart and strength of our country’s worldwide military influence.
The memorial built to honor those who lost their lives in the Pentagon and on the plane that was used as a weapon against our country is simple yet powerful. The gravel crunches under your feet as you wander between 184 individual benches and reflecting pools. To those of us who choose to remember, rather than forget and move on, it re-enforces our resolve and determination of the necessity of taking the fight to the enemy to protect our home land from a repeat of the tragedy of seven years ago.
But to those of us who truly choose to remember, the memorial is really the wall rebuilt, adorned with a flag. The image of that flag first being draped over the blackened stone is burned into my mind. It still brings a lump to my throat and a tear to my eyes remembering the pride and unity and resolve we all felt at that time. I only wish it had that effect on more of my friends, family and fellow Americans, but I think too many have chosen to forget the images and feeling they had seven years ago.
The media has determined for us that showing those images and bringing up those old feelings is bad, so those pictures and videos are locked away. It would be too traumatic to see them again. I agree whole heartedly that is would be traumatic, BUT invite them use my Webster’s dictionary to discover why they are so wrong.
Traumatic (adj) of, having the nature of, or resulting from a trauma.
Traumatic (n) a medicine useful in the treatment of wounds (obs)
Perhaps I am old and obsolete, like the noun definition of the word. Or maybe we as a country need a dose of medicine. The wound is not a pile of rubble on the ground in downtown New York. It’s not scattered debris across a green pasture in Pennsylvania or a hole through the side of the Pentagon. The real wound is the hatred and divisiveness and separation that is overwhelming us as a country. It’s so much worse, so much more damaging than anything a group of terrorists did or ever could do to us. And we are doing it to ourselves. If we don’t find some medicine for it quickly, or even worse, refuse to be treated out of spite or pure stubbornness, I am more and more afraid every day that it could turn out to be terminal.
How did my country go from unity through tragedy, strength and resolve in the face of despair, fear, and vulnerability, and patriotism like never before experienced in my lifetime and probably not seen since World War II, to the sorry and embarrassing state it is in now. Finger pointing, criticizing, slandering or outright lying, creating division for the sake of personal or political gain, arguing for the sake of arguing, and probably the worst; denial that all of the above hurts us all and pretending that it can somehow create a change that will heal the wound. All sides of the political, religious, gender and ideological line are guilty. And most of us contribute in some way to the infection that keeps the wound open without realizing we are doing it.
The Pentagon wall was rebuilt, the rubble in New York has been removed and there is green grass where there was once debris scattered across a field. The physical recovery is well underway, leaving a few scars to stir up a sense of remembrance and national unity for those willing to look and remember. The emotional recovery for those who lost family and loved ones on this day seven years ago and defending our country since then goes on. They are in my thoughts and prayers everyday and my hope is that their loss will never be forgotten or minimized by the passage of time or the political agenda of us, the debaters.
Today of all days, there can be no debate. Reach into your memory, pull out those pictures and images, and hopefully shed a tear. Then remember a flag raised in the dust and ruin by heroes in New York, remember a flag draped over a weakened wall in the Pentagon and the instant strength it provided to the wall and a country, remember the heroes who sacrificed themselves in Pennsylvania to save some of us in Washington DC and the monuments that identify us to the world. And above all else remember the millions of flags flown from the front porches, roofs and lawns in your own neighborhoods and towns. Remember how it felt to stand beside your neighbor, not against him.
And then try to remember it again tomorrow.
Harper's Ferry is a historic town in Jefferson County, West Virginia
The front door is on the right of this stairwell. It goes down, turns, and goes down some more.
This is the storage room. Behind me is more storage area that goes back under the stairs.
The back of the house.
New wall & light
I think it is nice. Wish we could have done this years ago.
3 years ago
