Some excerpts….
Russ Moskowitz, a 25-year-old New Jersey native, was working on the 79th floor of the second tower when he felt the building shake. Then, he saw debris falling outside his window. He describes his harrowing escape – a horrific experience he will never forget.
“The 33rd floor. This one provided the worst memories of my life. The scariest time. A time to start praying. A time to ask myself “Am I alive.” The CRASH. I shook, maybe I fell. Others fell. The building had been struck. I did not know that at the time. I felt a shake. A great shake. Then the noise. Like nothing I ever want to hear again. I tried telling people it sounded like 15-20 elevators falling down, all landing 10 feet from me. That description does not do it justice. Remember I was inside, so I had no idea what it was. What I thought – the other building fell into this one. And I was dead. Maybe not then, but shortly. I thought I heard the beginning of the building crumbling. I envisioned myself trapped. Like those at Oklahoma City, those in earthquakes, those at the embassy the last time bin Laden struck us. When I went to a shrink with my mom today, he asked, “At that moment, were you thinking of your mom?” I said I was not thinking. Nor did I till I got out of the building. I started praying.. shema yisreal, etc. and I put the mezuzah around my neck in my mouth the whole way down. I would not get out of there without help from a higher source. That was the 33rd floor.”
Monica Gabrielle, 50, saw the plane flying low and fast overhead as she walked to work on the morning of Sept. 11– but didn’t think too much about it. That all changed when she arrived at her Manhattan office. A co-worker came in screaming that a plane had hit the World Trade Center. Monica frantically tried to reach her husband, who worked on the 103rd floor of the second tower. She waited and waited and waited for him to call – a call that never came. Her account describes her desperate and frantic search for news about Rich on that tragic day.
“We continue toward Bellevue. Coming up First Avenue we see activity. This must be where the list is. We ask, “Is there a list of people admitted here? My husband is missing.” We are told that it was a command post set up to take descriptions of the missing. Why not give them the information? We’re here. They can help. We sit with the detectives. They are very somber. There is hysteria all around me. People are wailing. I start to hyperventilate. The questions they ask, these are not normal questions ... name? age? height? weight? company? building? floor? description of clothing? description of jewelry? any distinguishing marks, scars or tattoos? name of dentist? any recent medical x-rays? I can get a photo. I’ll bring it back. No, these questions are not a good sign. I am trying to stay calm ... I sob hysterically. I’m asked, “When did you last hear from your husband?”, “You haven't heard from him since the attack?” The look, the pity, trying to reassure me all would be well. I know this is bigger than I thought. I won’t give up. We leave. The shock has now taken full hold. Our feet ache, we have blisters, but we don’t complain. We just keep walking.”
On Sept. 9, Britt Ehnar, a 52-year-old midwife in Sweden, saw her 25-year-old son for the last time. David Tengelin, who worked for Marsh & McLennan on the 100th floor of the North tower, was one of the thousands who perished during the Sept. 11 attack. He had just returned from a two-week trip to Sweden.
“We are going through such a torturous time now. I cannot find words to express what I feel, more than that my life has come to a complete and sudden stop. You give birth to your son, you feed and clothe him, you raise him, you love and care for him. You enjoy the time you spend with him and your pride grows with each new accomplishment your son achieves. How any mother can live with a tragedy such as losing a child, I will never understand. Even worse, the cause of my son's death was an act of terror. He had no wish to be part of the high stakes of international politics, yet his life was abruptly brought to an end because of it.
We are the only family in Sweden who has lost a family member in the WTC disaster on September 11. We are so alone here. No one can really understand what we are going through. The first week after the terrorist attack, we just stayed at home in utter shock and dismay. We kept watching the news showing the aircrafts crashing into the Twin Towers and saw them crumble as they fell to the ground. I watched it again and again. These images will torment me for the rest of my life. I could not do anything to save my son's life, but would have given my own life to do so.”
The Sept. 11 tragedy affected people of all ages, including Brittany Calder, 12, and her 10-year-old sister, Danielle. The two girls live just east of Portland in Gresham, Oregon, and both sent letters and drawings soon after the attack.
Brittany: “I feel really bad about what happened on September 11, 2001. I could not imagine if I was one of those kids that did not have any parents because of what someone else did. I wish I could do something to help but I am not yet old enough to give blood, so I just pray for the people that have been affected by this incident. But no matter what happens, I will always be proud to be an American.”
Danielle: “When the twin towers fell down, I was shocked! I don’t get why those people did that. What did we do wrong?? Those innocent people were just going to work, then they died! That was very sad what happened. I was really shocked when I saw Afghanistan celebrating! They were stepping on our flag, burning it and doing other stuff. I got mad. I hate, and I mean hate those people!!! Those are the meanest people I have ever seen! I was very sad. I was sad when those people were jumping out of the windows. My uncle was looking out his window of his work and saw it. I am glad he is OK. But I still feel really bad for those people who died and who are looking for them who died. I feel really bad! I love America and I am proud to be one, too!!!
Citing the nation’s over-consumptive and oppressive behavior, a Peace Corps volunteer living in a remote village in Ivory Coast (a country in West Africa) says America is to blame for the Sept. 11 attack.
“I did hear and see what happened on Sept. 11 but was not particularly moved by it – much less surprised. I’m sure that you will be hearing this a lot but boy did we have it coming! The only reason for showing the Palestinians celebrating in the aftermath is because of all the reporters on hand. I’m sure there was a lot of dancing on the tables in the world (China, Cuba, most of Latin America, Lybia, Russia, Serbia, etc.). There was some live French news on the Ivorian TV station the day it happened, but not much talk of it afterward.
The Ivorian response did not include any dancing on the tables (that was in Nigeria and Liberia) but was somewhat of a mixed response. It was strange in that some police and military personnel were friendly and shared their condolences when only several months prior, they were hostile. The United States runs the World Bank and the IMF are seen as the source of our political problems in Cote d’Ivoire. Americans are thought to support Alassan Ovattara and the North and IMMP has been pulling strings and manipulating the country with funding cuts and constant new criteria to meet. Teachers and most government officials seemed to be aware of what happened yet not surprised by it. Most villagers don’t really know nor does it really matter to them. One villager friend asked me if there was a plane crash in the U.S., but that’s about it.”
Julie McKnight – an accountant in Tempe, Arizona – was getting ready for another ordinary day at work when she noticed pictures of a fire at the World Trade Center on the morning news. The pictures especially caught her attention because she is originally from New York and has relatives that work nearby.
“As I stood in my bedroom watching, I saw a second plane approaching and gasped in horror as it appeared to slam into the second tower. Not trusting my comprehension of what I had just seen, I listened intently to the newscasters for their interpretation. They speculated that perhaps failed navigation equipment was misguiding planes either approaching or taking off from one of the three area airports. When a third plane hit the Pentagon, I realized something evil was amiss and I became worried about my son, Greg, who works across from the Sears Tower in Chicago, which suddenly seemed a likely target.
I stood transfixed to the television for about two hours watching and wondering how these events would impact life as we knew it. By this time, it became apparent that this was the work of terrorists and I was not sure what to do: Should I go to work as planned or should I stay home and watch a piece of history unfold?”
Desi Busby, 44, lives in the small town of Frankton, Indiana. On the morning of Sept. 11, she was working in the guidance office at the local school when she was told to turn on the television. She watched the tragedy unfold in disbelief and wondered how anyone could have so much hate they would want to kill innocent people. Like many, she turned to God for strength.
“I try so hard to be positive and I keep searching for what good has come with this tragedy. Certainly the renewed love for our country is a big improvement from our days before. I cannot believe how many flags and ways people are showing their love for where they live here in rural Indiana. There's one person who has painted a humongous flag in their yard on the grass. They have put a light on it and it looks awesome at night. There also seems to be a new attitude among people. It has made us realize that a lot of things don't mean much and aren't worth getting upset about. People seem to be more accepting of other's differences. Our church numbers have grown as well. I think for a lot of us that is the only answer. God is the only one who can help us now. I have asked him to be with all who are hurting, that they will feel his arms wrapped around them and let them know they are not alone. I also pray that he gives the answers for how to handle the terrorists and what we need to do to protect ourselves.”
For Rick Lovell, 42, the Sept. 11 attack stirred a lot of different emotions. But the one that hit the Arizona man the hardest was on Sept. 15, when he went to Home Depot to pick up some plumbing supplies. That feeling was fear…
“When I entered the store, there was a man that fit the description of a terrorist – olive colored skin, black hair and brown eyes. When our eyes met, the feeling of fear just ran though my body. My mind was painting a picture of this man being the next terrorist planning the next attack.
The fear I saw in him was even more real. The man was looking at me as if I was going to be the next American to make a statement by bringing harm to him and his young daughter, who had just ran up to hold his hand. The fear in my body left me as quick as it came.
The thing that keeps bothering me was the fear I thought I saw in this man. Is his fear twice of mine? He has the same terrorist threat as all of America and the fear of one American wanting to make a statement.”
Alice Blunden, who lives in Adelaide, Australia, has traveled all across the world in her 80-plus years of life. One journey even took her to the top of the World Trade Center...
“I remember when I was at the viewing floor. I was with John’s mother-in-law, and she was telling a man next to us her son has a crash towing service.
The whole world was stunned and still can’t believe it. And wonders where it will all end. I don’t want thousands of lovely young men killed off again, especially like Vietnam.
For Garry Busby – a 46-year-old farmer and donut shop owner in Indiana – the Sept. 11 attacks reminded him how precious American freedom is. He hoped the event would remind citizens that this freedom comes at a cost – and that U.S. citizens cannot afford to remain complacent and assume they will always be safe on their own soil.
“It’s nice to see people take pride in their country again. I have not seen this many flags and signs of patriotism in quite some time. I have also been quite disappointed in some of the events that took place in our state of Indiana. The greed and selfishness of some of our citizens have appalled me. The panic buying creating long lines and some entrepreneurs’ greed by charging unrealistic prices (especially gas stations) really depressed me. It makes me wonder if the attack was on a larger scope if the country would kill itself out of greed and fear. Wake up America!! Other countries go through this kind of terrorist attack (usually on a smaller scale) on a regular basis. We have to realize the freedom we enjoy is the envy of the world. No matter how much we help other countries, it is not deeply appreciated. Although some countries have expressed their grief and support, how many have sent relief workers or money to help? We are going to be resented and thus targeted by terrorists. You don't realize how good we have it in the United States until you visit another country, especially an underdeveloped, impoverished country - it's a real eye-opener.”
On the morning of Sept. 11, Faith Dickmeyer, a 33-year-old homemaker in Michigan, was flipping through the television channels in search of the weather. She froze when she came across news of the attack.
“None of the commentators/reporters knew what was happening at the time and all were in disbelief. As a parent, I thought “Oh good Lord, what about the families of all those people!” It was a beautiful sunny day in Michigan, but there might as well have been a dangerous tornado, because I was afraid to take my kids outside or to go anywhere – our wonderful country was not as safe as we thought just 30 minutes prior. I called my husband on his cell phone and urged him to be careful and to get gas; we didn't know what could lie ahead.”
Pierre Beauparrain, 26, grew up in France and now lives in South Carolina. At first, he thought writing about the Sept. 11 attack was futile. But he then remembered his grandparents’ feelings about World War II: Never forget.
“…We now know part of the Truth … well at least we think we know! Bin Laden is now the most hated man on Earth. And I am all the more worried by what will happen next. Is the U.S. also going to massacre innocent people in Afghanistan? All the World Wars started like that: King Ferdinand was shot in a crowd of people in Bosnia, Hitler invaded Poland … Let’s hope that we still remember our Past and that our first troops, the Diplomats, are still here to protect the fragile equilibrium of the World.”
Beth Smith, a teacher in Indiana, faced 27 curious sixth graders just moments after seeing the second plane slam into the World Trade Center. She longed for solitude … and a television.
“Within 60 seconds I was glued to a television. I had only minutes before school started, and I'd have what
turned out to be 27 curious, frightened, interested, shocked, and energized sixth graders. Those children
bombarded me with notions, questions, comments, and requests I couldn't even begin to process. For the next six
hours my job would be complicated by the needs of 27 other humans. I just needed to take care of my own sense
of disbelief, fear and discomfort. There was no escaping. I could only face them.”
Katharine Clark attends Columbia University in New York City. Her account describes the days following the Sept. 11 attack – attending an emotive church service, consoling her friend who works at a downtown hospital, talking with her frantic parents. The most profound moment, however, was when she received an uplifting yet mysterious phone call from a Frenchman pronouncing his love for America.
“The phone rang just after six o’clock. Convinced it was my parents, I raced towards it. Somehow, I got the
strange idea of answering with a French accent. Why? “A-lo,” I said excitedly, waiting for the recipient of my
silliness to respond. To my surprise and delight the male at the other end duplicated my greeting.
For a fraction of a second I was convinced it was my father, playing along with my little joke. I repeated my
greeting, but received a very different response the second time around. “Hello, hello? This is a call from
France.” I stopped and turned off my radio. My father does not mimic accents that well.
The man continued, saying, “All my friends and I are calling people across America to give our support.” A bit
stunned by my choice of accent, the fact that someone from France was actually on the line, and my
embarrassment at having potentially mocked this poor fellow, I stammered, asking the caller to reveal his
identity. He brushed my question aside, and had we been face to face I would have received the gesture of a
hand waving my query away. “It does not matter who I am as long as I give you this message.” Amazingly, he
proceeded to assuage my tension about the call, and, of course, my feelings concerning the predicament in which
the terrorist attack had left our country.
The mystery Frenchman pledged his allegiance to the American flag. “We all have them in our gardens and our
homes,” he explained. “You must know that the French love and support New York and America.” I was equally
grateful and confused and hung on his every encouraging word, attempting to slip in a “thank you” here and
there.
“The United States will get through this. . . you are a strong people and the French stand behind you,” he
continued. I made one last futile attempt to determine the identity of my caller even though I now understood
it was the message, and not some random name, I was to remember. Thanking him for his call, he interrupted and
said that he was grateful just to speak with someone in America. “It is my pleasure, I love your country. God
bless America and goodnight.” With those words our conversation ended and I was left in a state of disbelief.”
Sarah Heames, of Portland, Oregon, celebrated her 24th birthday one week after the attack. Her series of
remarks explore how life goes on. In one entry, she describes a Saturday working at the farmer’s market, where
she notices a marked decline in Middle Eastern customers.
“Saturday morning brought a new awareness. As I staffed the information booth at the Farmer’s Market, I noticed
the drop in Middle Eastern customers. One of our honey vendors brought to my attention that most of his
clientele are Middle Eastern and his business has dropped since the 9-11 tragedy. How sad I became. Quickly I
noticed how I was looking at people. If they were Arabic looking I stared a little longer, trying to sense an
emotion, identify with their injustice. Why all of a sudden this heightened curiosity of an ethnicity whom I
never seemed to double take before? I am affected, influenced by the chaos.”
Andrew Semmens, of Melbourne, Australia, watched a live broadcast on the 11 p.m. news of the second
plane slamming into the World Trade Center. Like many citizens abroad, he feared a swift and irrational
American response.
“There has been memorial services here, minute silences before sporting events and constant media updates. Even
though America is a bit maligned for various reasons, there is a real affinity between Australia and the U.S. I
guess that's why so many Australians have been so affected by the tragedy; It's as if the plane crashed into
one of our own cities.
This week I feel everyone is moving on a bit and getting on with life. Amongst people I know, there's no real
ruthless desire to destroy the Middle East. I would expect most Americans would be hell bent on revenge, but
I'm worried about what type of response will be inflicted. If it's a strategic ALLIED response
directed at those responsible, I would support this. However, I fear George Bush will bow to public pressure
and direct a full-on American assault against the Arab world, killing many innocent people.”
Tina Maldonado, a 25-year-old student in Chicago, discusses God, smoking and dreams – among other topics
– in her essay inspired by a blitzkrieg of emotions.
“All over the world people are looking to god, asking god, praying to god, begging god for a miracle to find
their loved one’s body. Filled with pain, pleading and crying to god for a miracle. Why? If god looks upon us
as his children, why would he allow such sorrow to take over so many lives? If not more now than any other time
in my life, do I hate such a god. This will take over lives completely. Forever…
. . . Someday, I’ll quit smoking. Fuck it – I quit yesterday and my day sucked. It was filled with apprehension
and constant longing for a drag. Fuck it – we’re going to be bombed, anthraxed, or go crashing down into a
fucking cornfield. That last cigarette may be just what I need.
… Medication? Only to sleep again. But is there something I can take to make me dream well again? I need that …
good dreams. I need to have faith. I need to feel resilience. I need to be the whole person I was, not the
crumbled mess I feel like now. I need to feel hope again. I guess I need to find hope first. I need to feel
that my world and the people I love and care about are safe and not wondering about an end … like I am now.”
Jacopo Moccia, a 24-year-old politician of Italian descent living in Brussels, Belgium, said he was “gob
smacked” by news of the attack. He condemned the terrorist assault, but chastised capitalistic nations for
turning a blind eye to the Third World.
“The US was targeted (rather than another country) because it is dominant today. But the roots of this tragedy
do not lie exclusively on the doorsteps of the White House, even though U.S. foreign policy has always been
arrogant, aggressive and disrespectful. The roots are be found in the way we all complacently
run our affairs, the selfishness with which we consider our “interests” or our “countries interests” (a
sentence which is meaningless and yet used by all as the ultimate explication of any action).
Today 35,615 children died of hunger. There are no echoes in the press, no statements by governments, the Pope
is silent on the issue and no one is being prosecuted. Tomorrow another 35,615 children will die of hunger. How
many the day after?”
The following is written by a commercial airline pilot who vehemently expressed disgust at those
advocating a non-violent response to the attacks.
“I had gotten home late the previous night, so I got up in time to see my kids off to school. The TV was on,
and one tower of the World Trade Center was burning. Then, the second airliner hit the other tower. My initial
reaction was, "What is this violent movie that's on so early on a school day, and how come I've never seen it
before?" I quickly figured it was no movie, and that it was really happening as we watched it. As information
became known, that terrorist suicide hijackers had seized the aircraft and deliberately flown them into their
targets, the question that formed first in my mind was, "What are the long-range goals of those murderers?"
… I see a great surge of genuine patriotism in the U.S., which is most gratifying. Conversely, I am sickened
when I hear of the small faction of pseudo-intellectuals who say that a military response is the wrong move
that we should just talk out our problems. Perhaps in their little worlds devoid of anything of value, those
wags not only have nothing worth fighting for, but are also totally unwilling to defend anything themselves.
Those murdering bastards snuffed out 6,000 innocent lives, and so there is nothing left to discuss or
negotiate. Osama bin Laden won't be able to buy his way out of this one. Although it may not happen in the
first or second strikes, I am sure he will eventually get the full measure of justice as served up by the U.S.”
Chris Coleman, a young man living in Flagstaff, Arizona, spent last summer traveling up and down the
East Coast. His essay reflects on his trip to the World Trade Center, and later, an act of defiance during a
Radiohead concert.
“. . . There is the remote possibility that I could be drafted, forcing me to sneak up to Canada through a hole
in North Dakota. That thought excites in a perverse way. I’ve often had fantasies of saying goodbye to the U.S.
of A. But I digress; this is an awful thing. It is a tragedy beyond the comprehension of this post-modern head.
And yet, yet …
About a month ago – on August 16th, 2001 – I was lucky enough to see Radiohead live at Liberty State Park.
This is an outdoor venue, which is a small island about a half-mile behind the Statue of Liberty. The statue
was behind the stage, just to the right of Thom York’s head as he crooned images of a world paranoid, confused
and corrupt. Directly to my left was the Manhattan skyline, lit up in the night air. The prominent landmark was
of course the World Trade Center. Dwarfing everything around it. I looked at it in reverence, and fear. While
the band played “Exit Music for a Film,” I did something that surprised myself amid thoughts that cutthroat
capitalism had its home there and globalization’s greedy fingers creep from there. As Thom sang “We hope, that
you choke, that you choke...” I raised my middle finger at the World Trade Center. The old saying goes “be
careful what you wish for.” That wasn’t my direct wish of course, I was fingering what it symbolized.”
Arnold Cassola, a 48-year-old politician from Malta working in the European Parliament, paid little
attention to the slew of e-mails pouring into his account Tuesday afternoon. Until he saw this one…
“At one point, an email entitled "Second Plane hits America" caught my eye. I opened it: and I read with
disbelief. It was sent by a committee member for the Green Party of Malta, Alternattiva Demokratika.
I rushed out into the corridor of the second floor of the "Paul Henri Spaak" Building at the European
Parliament, with the intention of informing my colleagues. It was at this point that I realized that the
parliamentary building corridors were deserted and that an eerie silence hung in the air. The only thing that
broke this silence was the unusual sound of a TV set blaring at full blast in the corridor. I walked down the
corridor in the direction of the loud TV set. The walk ended at the entrance of a colleague's office, where
around 15 people were huddled in front of a TV, watching the horrifying images being transmitted live by CNN
from New York. Everybody was silent.”
When the first tower collapsed, it took David Tengelin, or “Swede,” with it – a tall blonde who liked to
play soccer. Tengelin, a 25-year-old accountant who worked on the 100th floor, was the only Swedish citizen who
perished in the attack. His friends, Rachel and Thomas Nash, young parents living in Phoenix, Ariz., say
goodbye.
“My friend Swede was on the 100th floor of the first tower of The World Trade Center on the morning of
September 11th. It is now the 23rd of September and today is the day that Swede’s family and friends are having
a memorial service for him. His body has not been found. I think of Swede and I think of all the people who are
now without their fathers, husbands, mothers, wives, sons, daughters and friends. These people were all loved
by someone. I don’t understand how the hijackers could be filled with so much hatred for people they didn’t
even know.
… On the Friday after the attacks, I was in the store with my mother when I found a card that made me feel a
little bit of comfort. It says, “Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly.”
– Anonymous”
Marco Bertacche, a 27-year-old financial content manager in Milan, Italy, watched a live BBC breaking
report on the Internet as the second plane hit the tower. Weeks after the attack – with more tempered thoughts
– he begins to evaluate what the cause and effect of this attack will be on the global village. Like many, he
criticizes western nations for their arrogant ways, including his own prime minister who publicly proclaimed
the West superior to the East.
“A thousand minutes, images, tears, TV debates, moving interviews and racist comments have passed since then. I
have had time to come to terms with what, as a global community, we were all experiencing. I have been
listening, re-thinking my emotions, leveling them down. From the beginning, the Italian public opinion was one
of aghast, confirming that the attack was on civilization itself, to the values that bond us, to our ordinary,
quiet life. There was unstilted support for an international curb on terrorism from both left and right wing
parties and groups.
Yet still, we have been living the tragedy and the reaction to it in a distant way, thus allowing for the
amplification of the differences our societies inevitably have. Of course, no one deserved what the American
people suffered. Their wounds are greater than we can imagine: They’ve never had Nazi camps, bombarded cities,
grandfathers killed by Fascist states. But I cannot hide that speeches like ‘It’s a war against evil’
(G.W.Bush) impressed few here. They sounded disproportionate, cocky, redneck American. The concept of justice
itself is probably different across the ocean. No one here asked Milosevic dead when he was being hunted. WWII
criminals were prosecuted in an ad hoc tribunal in Nuremberg. After all, every execution in the USA sparks ink
lines and words of disgust, in Italy at least. And, let me say, there is no difference between the beheading of
an unfaithful woman in Talibans’ Afghanistan to an electric chair execution of a mass murderer in Texas.”
Brian Oglevie is a 41-year-old computer software manager and U.S. Air Force helicopter flight engineer
who lives in Portland, Oregon. On Sept. 11, the parent of three was stirred from his slumber by a phone call
from his brother. Hour laters, he was putting on his flight suit.
“… So you wipe the tears away when you can, walk out of the room when you must. You search desperately to
remember if you have friends or family in that area today. Two hours after the first sacrifice into the World
Trade Center, I have an Air Force flight suit on. Briefings are notoriously not brief except for this day. We
have no information to share except that we’ve been put on alert for local disaster support. Six weeks prior I
was patrolling the northern no fly zone of Iraq where the danger is very real, but expected. How in Hell can I
be putting on body armor and arming up to fly missions in my own country. Yesterday I worried about
protecting my children from some of the improper decisions they make as they grow to be adults, … I feel so
weak because I cannot protect them from this.
And now the Air Force is saying it’s time to get your life in order. We will be traveling overseas soon.
Everyone is aware about the lack of humanity the Afghans show their prisoners of war as the poem of a famous
author finds it’s way onto the flight schedule board. But of course the majority of us, having been weaned on
testosterone laden John Wayne movies, prefer the message of an unknown author that has graced our squadron hall
since I’ve been a member of this rescue unit. “It is better to die on your feet than to live on your knees!”
I’ve spent a great deal of time in the Middle East over the last decade and have a good understanding of how we
arrived at this point. I wish that I could say I was shocked at what transpired here, but I have witnessed what
man is capable of during too many wars. It is hard to understand and accept that someone can hate so deeply,
but they do. Always remember that amongst us there are those that do, and they are wrong!”
Carlo Crudele, a 27-year-old management consultant, watched the Sept. 11 horror unfold from his Jersey
City office window. His essay describes the fear that swept through his office; the panicked phone calls to
friends and family working in Manhattan and the WTC; the rushed evacuation of his building to make way for the
injured and deceased. Two weeks after the attack, his personal “missing people” list totaled five.
“… And what about my brother-in-law who worked in midtown Manhattan? I called his office to learn that he
hadn’t arrived in the office yet. Was this a good thing? I called some colleagues who worked on the 99th
floor of one of the towers. But, they were not answering – the calls went directly to Voice Mail. What did
that mean? I repeatedly tried to call my wife, but kept hearing the message “all circuits are busy” – I
couldn’t use my cell phone at the time I needed it more than ever.
I received sporadic calls from friends who knew I traveled through the World Trade Center on my way to work. I
told them I was fine, and was equally happy to learn that they were also fine. While standing at the window
talking on my phone, I saw “long, skinny things” falling from the windows. I later came to learn that those
“long, skinny things” were actually people jumping from the Towers.
Then the fire alarms sounded. My building in Jersey City was being evacuated. Why? Weren’t we safe across the
river? I looked down and saw the streets of Jersey City filled with people from other building evacuations. The
police were telling all cars to “move away from the river.” I heard people saying that Jersey City would be
used as a triage for injured people. I also heard they would use Jersey City as a temporary morgue. How could
the place where I work be used as a morgue?!?”
Sage Hibberd – a 25-year-old graphic designer, organic gardener and soon-to-be ski instructor – lives in
Jackson, Wyoming. Soon after the Sept. 11 attack, Sage went on a rafting trip through the Grand Canyon. She
discusses her communion with nature in the wake of tragedy.
“I left for a river trip down the Grand Canyon about a week after the attacks. I felt guilty for feeling
excited about my upcoming expedition. It wasn’t until I was hiking down into the canyon at 5 a.m. that I became
immersed in the magic of the canyon and forgot – or at least repressed – the images of the world above the rim.
The through of no communication became comforting, and all worries faded.
The next week proceeded with a feeling of truly living in the moment and enjoying all the canyon has to offer,
from its hidden secrets and abundance of wildlife to its terrifying raging rapids.
… I was reluctant to return to the rim of the canyon for fear of losing contact with the people I met and the
canyon itself. I was afraid to see my beautiful canyon life shattered by the tragedies of the real world. One
of the guides said to me the canyon is the real world. Now I realize how much those words mean to me, that
there are still places that are so pure and beautiful and sacred.”
On the morning of Sept. 11, Don Kanare, 46, of Northern California, sat down to eat breakfast and read
the comics. Then, he turned on the television…
“The fog slowly melting away from my view of the east bay hills as I turned on the TV and settled in to enjoy
the first bites of nourishment. I watched first in disbelief and then in horror as the words scrolled across
the bottom of the screen, "World Trade Center Towers have collapsed.”
… I cannot fathom sacrificing my life so that I can kill thousands of innocent people. But to the hijackers and
their associates, the victims were not innocents, but rather active capitalists seeking to perpetuate rampant
materialism at the expense of the poverty stricken masses around the world.
As a believer in peaceful protest (along the lines of Ghandi), I have a difficult time understanding the mind
of someone who would kill thousands of people who have never directly done them any harm. Yet, as a student of
history, I understand that those with nothing to lose are willing to risk everything in hopes of achieving
their dreams, whatever they may be.”
Antoinette Brouyaux, 40, who works in a research center for Belgian consumer organizations, was in her
office when the WTC and Pentagon were struck Sept. 11. She wrote her essay just one week after attack (and she
plans to add more due to America’s bombing campaign in Afghanistan).
“…And then news that never stops. People getting upset with the emotional and catastrophic information filling
newspapers and televisions.
“We didn’t get so much information during the genocide in Rwanda,” people say.
“Some human beings are worth more money than others,” they say.
Nevertheless, tragedy is tragedy, even with CNN and intelligent or stupid comments, critical analysis or spicy
anecdotes …
Then, a question: Is it really a war? Does the answer require military initiative? No state has done that, but
eventually a terrorist network? Are we so sure it is Bin Laden? Then, how will U.S. Army counter him? All these
young people suddenly mobilized – what will they do? Will the U.S. government stay reasonable? Especially Bush
junior, who caused so many angry reactions here in Europe when he became president. What is he saying now?
Sometimes he just looks like a bad actor telling an ugly story to stupid people: “We will be terrific … the
best.”
Jamie McKnight, a 20-year-old student at Northern Arizona University, is proud to be an American. But
she questions her leader’s staunch notions of good and evil.
“President Bush has repeatedly stated that these terrorists are the evil we are pursuing. And it is with evil
he plans to fight the evil he wishes to destroy. But what constitutes this so called “evil?” America avidly
believes it is the correct moral example to which the entire planet should be modeled after. As an American I
am proud of our beliefs and agree the whole world would be a better place if they were just like us. However,
we represent freedom. And with that freedom comes the right to believe whatever you feel is correct. Every
culture has their own unique beliefs to which people feel moral as they follow. These terrorists felt
completely unsympathetic for the thousands of innocent lives they destroyed. Why? Because they were following
their beliefs, and therefore being moral in their own right. They are angry people because we do not have the
same values they do. While we are angry people because they do not have the same values we do. Here is where
the battle begins.”
Christoper McDaniel, 27, is a chiropractor living in Marietta, Georgia. Below is an excerpt from his
poem, “Here Comes the Eagle,” written about a week after the attack. As he describes, “I often express my
emotion through poetry. This time I hope that my expression represents the emotions of millions.”
“Resolve to end this tragedy
A Long Island teacher discusses the letters her students wrote on Sept. 20 to rescue workers who sifted
through the WTC rubble in search of life.
“In one of the letters, an eight year old is scared because so many rescue workers got killed. “Now if it ever
happens again, who will be there to help?” Some wish they didn’t live in this great city and go home to crying
parents. Another student calls the day a “911.” We could smell the smoke here in our Long Island enclave of
privacy and peace.
Almost everyone knows someone who died. We know the parents of a fine 23 year old who died along with 700 other
workers in the bond firm of Canon Fitzgerald (This left 1,500 children without at least one parent.). Just one
week earlier, she told her parents that money wasn’t everything and she was going to pursue a master’s degree
in social work at Berkley. This is unthinkable for any parent, and we all grieve with them and wonder and hope
that they can truly go on and enjoy life again.”
And some of the letters….
“Tuesday was the worst day of my life. So many people died. A lot of kids lost their dads or moms. It was a
very very sad day. After this happened, there was so much smoke from the Twin Towers. I could smell it at my
house.”
“In New York City, two planes crashed. The F.B.I. and the C.I.A. are looking for the people who are terrorists.
They are the people. We are going to bomb them. The U.S. Army is going to bomb them.”
“I saw the twin towers collapse. I was scared because I was scared if a plane would crash into my house. I was
going to hide under my bed. I wish I did not live in New York because then I would not have to hear this news
on every channel. I wish people wouldn’t have done that. I was very mad.”
“I think it’s stupid for the terrorists to do that. What they did was stupid, to kill yourself and to kill
people. I feel badly for the people that were in the building that got high jacked. I think Osama bin Laden is
a bad person. It’s very stupid and dumb. Why would they do what they did?”
“A week ago, the World Trade Center collapsed in New York City. Many people were in the buildings when this
terrible tragedy happened. Brave rescue troops, firefighters and police officers helped to dig people out. At
the hospital, generous nurses and doctors healed all of the people in the horrible accident.
My uncle was in the accident, and they haven’t found him yet. I’m very sad and hurt. I feel upset because I
loved my uncle. I’m uncomfortable when I think about it. It makes me cry.
These terrorists hate free people, so they did something that would make us feel bad and hurt. Now many people
have lost their lives because of these people.
WE WILL ALWAYS BE FREE!”
On Sept. 11, Patric Tengelin, a 27-year-old from Sweden, lost his only brother. That morning, he had
been watching the stock market on his computer when it suddenly nose-dived. Reports of the attack started
pouring in, and his thoughts turned immediately to David, who worked on the 100th floor in one of the WTC
towers.
“After having watched the clip a couple more times I began pacing back and forth, trying to remember in which
of the towers my brother had his office. I clung to the hope that he worked in the second building that was
hit. That would have given him fifteen minutes in which to react to the first airplane hit the other building,
run down the stairs and put himself in safety. It was agonizing watching both buildings on fire and not knowing
whether David was trapped in the inferno.
I am David’s big brother and as such it is my duty to protect him. I would have done anything to save him,
and not think twice about coming to his rescue. Now I could only watch the disaster unfold before my eyes on
live television. As the first tower tumbled to the ground I called my brother’s cell phone. The line was
busy! That meant that he may be alive and that gave me a glimmer of hope. I called again. Still busy! He was
probably on the phone to let everyone know that he was all right. My heart was racing and I was now more
hopeful than disillusioned. I went back to watch the TV just in time to see the second tower fold and
crumble. It was surreal. The next time I called, I got his voice mail. Maybe he had been asked to switch off
his cell phone if he were in the hospital...”
Anthony Polvere, a 39-year-young photography professor at Northwest College in Powell, Wyoming, grew up
in New York. Days after the attack, he sent a letter to his friends and family back home.
“As I sit here in the cozy confines of this untouched haven of Powell, Wyoming, I am constantly being reminded
of what it means to have love and friendship in my life. The sounds of birds chirping in the trees,
the distant hum of a lawnmower, the playful banter of horses and cows in the fields protected by the "big
brother" presence of the distant mountains, and the brisk, cool breeze signifying the coming of autumn
all make it seem like a typical September afternoon in a town brimming with signs of normalcy in America.
But soon the eye takes notice. Notice of the more than usual amount of American flags being flown from porches,
hung in windows, and displayed in solidarity. The ear becomes sensitive to church bells mournfully but
defiantly ringing their patriotic songs. Collections are being taken up in supermarkets, drug stores, and
college dorms. And tears are being shed for people unknown but for the similarity of being able to call
themselves "Americans".”
Kerry Thompson, a 28-year-old archaeologist, was raised in a small town on the Navajo Reservation and
today lives in Flagstaff, Arizona. In her essay, she discusses her disparaging thoughts on America and her
distinct lack of patriotism.
“It is with no small amount of guilt that I voice my opinions. Guilt because I have family, close family, who
have served in various arms of the United States military. I have great uncles who were Navajo Codetalkers, a
grandmother who was an army nurse, you name it, I’ve probably got it. They all chose to fight for this country
for reasons known only to them. I almost joined the Army myself ten years ago and my brother the Navy. Needless
to say in the end we didn’t. I often wondered why sometimes, I was so close to becoming Army personnel that I
opted out.
In the last few years, more like the last eight or nine that I have been in college, I have come to realize
that the Army was never my place to be. I quit saying the pledge of allegiance in the fourth grade for God’s
sake. This country truly is not my place to be, it never was. I am conflicted because I live here, I was born
here, but I am part of that invisible sector of society that only gets press when something bad happens or when
we threaten someone’s water rights, land rights, research rights, or any other rights inalienable to the rest
of the nation. In a border town like Flagstaff, Native Americans are either drunks or sell outs, there is no in
between.
How does this relate to the events of September 11th? My history is not filled with the glory of “our founding
fathers,” my history is not that of Buffalo Soldiers, or the Union Army. I fall on the side that lost. My
history is fear of U.S. Calvary, massacre, slaughter, and reservations. Spoiled meat, thieving BIA agents, dead
mothers and children, hundreds of miles of marching, lost language, fragmented culture, and a way of life I
never understood before it changed and disappeared.”
J.W. Pindell, a 22-year-old who recently earned his masters in journalism from Columbia University, grew
up Catholic in a small Indiana town. Here, he reflects on the overwhelming sense of responsibility he felt to
serve his country while attending church on the National Day of Prayer, Sept. 14.
“Folks here know me in different ways, but after the destruction earlier in the week in New York City and
Washington, D.C., I was now the one they looked at to protect them and to preserve their lifestyle. No one knew
then or nor do they know now if the country will ask men to enlist or begin a drafting process to fight a war
against terrorism without prototype.
However, in their worried eyes and strong handshakes, I saw myself differently then as a 22-year-old who was in
shape and with some education—the qualities of a good solider. While leaving church, I shook hands quietly with
a middle-aged man feeling a death sentence. Then, with a grandma and grandson, I felt a sense of holding more
responsibilities than my father. And finally with an older veteran, I felt possibly it was my generation’s
mission.”
Aurelie Mary, 23, is a French sociology student currently on exchange in Tampere, Finland. While
watching the horror unfold on television Sept. 11, her thoughts turned to war.
“The next thing we were worried about was, of course, war. A third World War????? Actually, I'm quite surprised
to see that so many countries decided to cooperate with the U.S.A., since this country is one of the most
powerful in the world. I was scared that some would take advantage of the situation and try to knock the U.S.A.
down and, on the same occasion, try to reverse the actual order of the world. I mean, since colonisation, the
same countries have always been poor and under European (or 'white' people) control, or dominance. The U.S.A.
is the center of the World Trade Organisation, and I guess some are really fed up with that situation.”
When Matthew House, a 19-year-old student at Boston College, walked into the business school Tuesday
morning, he didn’t understand the fliers loudly proclaiming, “FACULTY, STAFF AND STUDENTS: CHECK YOUR E-MAIL
AND YOUR VOICE MAIL. PEOPLE MAY BE TRYING TO COMMUNICATE WITH YOU.” The explanation was promptly forthcoming.
He entered his dim classroom to find students huddled silently around the television.
“ … In the business school building, the classes are warmer, comfortable. I didn't need the fleece, but I
hadn't taken it off when I saw the screen. And my arms, head, neck, back and legs became covered in goose
bumps. I'm not prone to irrational fear, and I'm not overly dramatic. The goose bumps seemed appropriate at the
time, however, and still seem that way – I was scared. Very scared. I had walked from a world in which I felt
very comfortable into one with which I was quite unfamiliar. In my world, planes don't fly into buildings. In
my world, buildings down the coast don't collapse and bury the hopes and dreams of thousands of people in so
much ash and dust.”
Mike McKnight, a 52-year-old flag salesman in Phoenix, Arizona, has been focused on his own little world
for most of his life. Sept. 11 changed everything.
“Tuesday morning began as most of my weekday mornings. Brush my teeth, take my blood pressure medicine and
allergy pills, plug in the coffee pot, play with the dogs, check my Ebay sales, ... You know. Routine. Ho
Hum. Another day, just like most of the days that make up my comfortable life.
Except for a few special days. Some wonderful. Some horrible. Graduations. Marriages. Births of my children.
Birthdays of those I love. Deaths of pets. Deaths of friends and family. Death of my sister.
Marital breakup and Divorce. All these special days involve others I care about, but they all involve my narrow
circle of family.
My world was narrow, and safe. I kept it that way. Be an observer of, a commentator upon, the tragedy and pain
all around us. But, don't become a participant in other's troubles. Don't get too close to anyone and don't get
too involved in other's lives, or their needs and pain will become mine. Just be a good person. Don't hurt
anyone. Let people live their lives the way they want, so long as they don't hurt others. My world was simple,
and safe.”
Like most Americans, Megan Slack, a graduate student in Portland, Oregon, reached out to family and
friends following the Sept. 11 tragedy – and was intrigued to learn how differently her own kin responded.
“I continue to feel sadness, but I have also began to feel anger and frustration. I kept thinking, “What kind
of person would do such a thing?” As I was exploring that thought the other day, my Mom called me. For 45
minutes, my Mom explained to me in a rage how President Bush was behind the whole thing. At first she sounded
very convincing, but as I thought about it, I realized he is dumb but maybe not that dumb. I found it
interesting how each person has reacted, though. My Mom, a therapist, is outraged and thinks the government is
behind it all. My Dad is trying to fit into his uniform from Vietnam, 40 pounds later. My sister wants to see
Osama bin Laden’s pubic hairs plucked out publicly one by one. We all have different perspectives and
reactions. When it comes down to it, we are all in this together.”
Rob Taylor’s office was located in the area of the Pentagon that was struck on Sept. 11. About a week
after the attack, the 35-year-old father visited the site. He sat on a hill across from the building, near
where families of victims had created a memorial.
“…By that time, the colony of rescuers, salvage experts, and investigators had already encamped all around that
side of the building, closing off access to all others. Their presence did little to blunt the inhumanity of
the scene or of the wrongness that emanated from the wreckage. Along with other displaced workers and
survivors, I was offered the chance to take a close up tour of the crash site. I chose instead to walk around
the memorial. There is more there than there appears to be when you are just driving by: Flowers, messages from
loved ones, favorite personal effects, drawings and handprints from now fatherless or motherless children. The
pain and sorrow there is deeper than at the crash site, but it is more, I don't know, “human.” The building is
only death and destruction. Here, there is death, but there is also love and a hope for better things for those
that have passed and for those left behind.”
“For miles around, whoever was near the towers either died or disappeared. The fire that burned is still
burning. From the window, we saw the black smoke coming uptown. The ambulances roared back and forth with dead
people. On 23rd Street, one could smell death.
Six thousand people were in the towers and I met so many people who lost someone. They hardly know how to clean
up. It’s like no one has seen anything like this. Hundreds of funerals are going on all around.
… Oct. 9, I will be 82 – this has aged me beyond my elder years. I’m afraid to ride the trains to get to my
doctors. Life is completely turned upside down.”
“The events this month have certainly thrown the world into crisis – but they also provide much opportunity.
The awe-inspiring expressions of grief and love that I have seen over the past week fill me with tremendous
hope. Make no mistake – these events have revived our spirits. We have seen this in the rescue workers in New
York, the volunteers who donated blood and in all those, worldwide, who expressed their grief so
compassionately.
We have an obligation to channel our spirits and our energy into forming a new, brighter and more peaceful
world, so that the next generation that follows will never know the pain and loss that so many are feeling
today.”
“…I’m not sure, but my compassion for these terrorists seems to have put me at odds with the rest of my
country. I truly cannot comprehend how people, in the midst of such tragedy, can demand that more lives be
sacrificed and revenge be sought at all cost. It seems so illogical to me. Since when is more violence a
solution for violent acts? What are we possibly trying to do here besides perpetuate a thirst for greed and an
overwhelming ego that just might kill us…literally.”
“… Abraham Lincoln said during his Gettysburg Address "Those dead shall not have died in vain; that this nation
shall have a new birth of freedom; and that this government of the people, by the people, for the people shall
not perish from this earth. This was true in 1863 and it is just as true in 2001.
When attacked by injustices, America pursues justice. We do not understand everything about the terrorists but
it is obvious the terrorists do not understand Americans, our resolve, what we are willing to do, or what they
have started. They are about to find out.”
“It is amazing how everyone feels concerned about this tragedy. Everyone stopped in the street, even the cars
(sur les Champs Elysées a Paris), in the malls, at work, at school ... The children are informed by their
teachers about all that happened. This evening, Lorraine came back with her weekly school news. She was able to
tell me all about the process of these events and why. She even told me: “Can you imagine Carla or Pierre could
have been there!” It's the first time everyone from children to adults feels so concerned.
“I clung to my candle and let it warm me as I sat in the dim light of the Cathedral Church of Saint John the
Divine for this evening’s vigil. On this national day of prayer and remembrance, I felt comforted by the pews
upon pews of faces all illuminated with hope for peace.
Some still bore their work uniforms, others just a pair of blue jeans and sneakers. People of every age, race
and nationality gathered under the pillars and arches of the church, each person's face telling a different
story. Many clutched the hands of their loved ones. A few sat alone.
… Even as some of the lights started to flicker away and as the wax began to coat my fingers, a few faint
voices in the crowd sang out, "Oh say can you see...." Their voices gained strength as we all joined in singing
songs of patriotism and faith.
Some find their strength in a higher power and some find it in themselves. Tonight, I found strength in our
unity.”
“… This is not a good subject, as we are looking at the start of the end of the world as we know it. If people
think our lives are changed now, think again, as this will lead to total global destruction. The day they
assaulted and killed the innocent of NY and beyond, my heart cried along with them. And my head knew this was
the beginning of a Third World War, a nuclear war. It is nerve-racking knowing our fate is in the hands of so
few people (heads of our countries). Revenge is mine sayth the lord!!!!!”
“Everyday has become more precious to me because I see my surroundings more clearly and appreciate them so much
more. To describe what has gone through my mind since the attacks, I will use an old American saying, “Live
free or Die!” Terror, especially now with my eyes as open to the world as they are, will not stop me from
living my life. I know now there is risk in everything we do, from getting on a plane to receiving mail. But
quite simply, I’ll be damned if anybody is going to determine my life for me.”
“… We Americans have ensconced ourselves in our culture. We watch TV, we gorge ourselves, we lounge and enjoy
the fruits of a bountiful existence. And, most of the time we took it all for granted, still do to an extent.
Our complacent American butts have been getting bigger and our minds more soft as we inhaled the drug of
denial…the denial that anything could happen to upset our glory or take our plenty and make it few.
Unfortunately, it usually takes some sort of drama or trauma to make the proverbial sleeping giant sit up and
take notice. It takes an extreme measure to make the giant actually change. America’s alarm clock has gone off
in a big way. The events of September 11 were nothing if not dramatic and traumatic. My fear is, however, that
we are not awake enough, aware enough. I am afraid we still believe we can go back to “business as usual,”
that we will catch and punish the “bad guys” and be able to once again fall into our slumber of denial.”
“…We now know part of the Truth … well at least we think we know! Bin Laden is now the most hated man on Earth.
And I am all the more worried by what will happen next. Is the U.S. also going to massacre innocent people in
Afghanistan? All the World Wars started like that: King Ferdinand was shot in a crowd of people in Bosnia,
Hitler invaded Poland … Let’s hope that we still remember our Past and that our first troops, the Diplomats,
are still here to protect the fragile equilibrium of the World.”
“I remember when I was at the viewing floor. I was with John’s mother-in-law, and she was telling a man next to
us her son has a crash towing service.
The whole world was stunned and still can’t believe it. And wonders where it will all end. I don’t want
thousands of lovely young men killed off again, especially like Vietnam. Things like that can happen here.
There are a lot of people I don’t want here.
“Some Danish intellectuals claimed the WTC attack was the USA’s own fault. But that is heartless and
poor-focused, because the thousands of people who died in New York that day and afterward have not made the
world hegemony of USA, and they have not decided the way to use it – the way that kills people everyday and
creates an unjust, corrupted and empoisoned world. The U.S. government, Congress and the military industrial
corporate and intelligence service complex created that. The USA was created by Europeans who killed the native
population and took their land. But that doesn’t give anyone the right to kill innocent people. Nothing does.”
You could call it an epiphany. Immediately following the Sept. 11 attack, Jeff Smith – a 32-year-old
computer software manager from Indiana – read a book that forever changed his life.
“…This book!!! It quite simply felt like my eyes were being pried wide open. All the unanswered questions that
led to my losing faith/belief in God were suddenly answered. As if a floodlight were turned on in my spiritual
conscience. Finally!!! I have been searching for a reason to believe again, and now, I hold it in my hands.
… That leads me to my final thought, how did the WTC/Pentagon/High-jacker bombings affect me? How did it change
my life? Well, I am not so sure the tragedy directly led to my finding happiness, but I know that it is because
of the confused, lost state-of-mind it left me in, I started asking the questions I so long ago stopped asking.
Most importantly, do I believe in God and why? If it were not for this tragedy and the tremendous loss of life
that accompanied it, I very well could still be the negative, bitter, often loveless self I was for the past 20
years. Because of this tragedy, I was spiritually shaken to the core and because I started asking the questions
again, I have now found happiness in my life. I can feel love and joy in my heart. I can feel the connection to
my spirit and to God.”
“The government lets us know what it believes we should. For example, on Sept 11,2001, it was announced that
four planes had been hi-jacked by terrorists. Two of them crashed into the Trade Center in New York City, one
of them crashed into the Pentagon in Washington D.C., and the fourth one supposedly crashed somewhere in
Pennsylvania. No further details on that plane. Reason being we shouldn’t know what really happened, because
the media would not know how to handle the fact the plane was shot down by the U.S. military. Eyewitnesses
stated they saw the plane being shot down. I only saw that on the news once.”
“La nature est souvent très belle mais elle a ses colères: éruptions, séismes, inundations ... L’animal pour
survivre peut dévorer sa proie, mais il peut éprouver de l’affection,s’il est chien chat , ... etc.
Comment l’Homme, l’être humain qui peut éprouver de l’affection, qui a une conscience, peut-il se conduire en
monstre en détruisant ses semblables?”
English translation:
“Nature is often very beautiful, but she has her anger: eruptions, earthquakes, floodings ... The animal for
survival must devour his prey, but he must feel affection, if it is a dog, cat, etc.
How does the man, the human who can feel affection, who has a conscience … how can he drive himself like a
monster, destroying his alikes?”
“This is a troubling time in our country, but we are confident that God is in control and that He provides
comfort, peace, and strength for those who love Him. We pray that the world you grow up in is one in which you
do not have to live in fear. As you grow up and raise your own families, we hope that you will have freedom to
worship God and that you will feel safe in your schools, jobs, neighborhoods, churches and travels.”
“…It is not an action without context, a random act without intent or historical underpinnings. Regrettably,
the only thing unusual about Tuesday is that is was this country that was bearing the brunt of tragedy, rather
then inflicting it upon masses the globe over. In many ways, such an event was inevitable.
This does not, of course, lessen the tragedy in any way. But it is the context in which it is unfolding, and
as such it must not be ignored. Let us not forget the very active role we have played in formulating,
manipulating and profiting from the often horrendous realities around the world. Some would label our current
heads of state "terrorists," and I imagine Bush's statement about a "faceless coward" is shared by numerous
countries who have felt (and continue to feel) the heavy weight of U.S. aerial bombardment and covert (and
overt) military intervention.”
“You know, I think for us in Europe, the USA is quite far away, but when I saw this, it was so close to me. I
saw the people there just one minute ago thinking their world was as secure as mine. And I felt, how easy my
small world can be destroyed.
I think we never pay attention to the ordinary things. Everything is normal for us when perhaps it shouldn’t
be! I felt with all the Americans, there is nothing more cruel and horrible than losing someone you love. Only
one question remains: Why?”
“Someone once said that 10% of life is what happens to you, 90% how you react to it. Our nations response to
the stimulus of Sept 11th has the power to define much more than whether or not we face terror attacks in the
future. The political good will and trust wielded by our leaders due to recent events would have been
unthinkable only weeks ago. Combined with public outrage and the need to “do something,” these same politicians
who we now so implicitly trust may find themselves significantly impaired of judgment with regards to
legislation marketed to “help counter terrorism” or “give us the tools to defeat terrorists.” These trying
circumstances require the resolve and foresight of those holding office, for in our efforts to protect
ourselves, we must never undermine the liberties our enemies would deprive us of. We must, in this time, be
wary that the vacuum of perspective created by unfamiliar surroundings does not become filled with the untested
statements of those with axes to grind. In the end, the only guards against attacks upon our liberty are
strength of will and informed decision making. Only ignorance and fear can deprive us of our liberty, and we
must never succumb to these vices, no matter who tempts us.”
“J’ai failli te retourner un “e-mail” complètement vide (blanc). Car les mots ne sont que des mots et expriment
difficilement les sentiments et la réelle pensée des choses. Un silence, un sourire dans la rue, une poignée de
mains sont plus riches que de longs discours.
J’ai préféré malgré tout rédiger quelques lignes car je pense que tu n'aurais pas saisi l’intention: un message
de compassion, d’amitié, de soutien et d’espoir exprimé sans artifice (sans aucun mot).”
English translation:
“My first intention was to return to you a completely blank e-mail. For words are only words and cannot express
feelings and peoples’ real thoughts. Silence, a smile in the street, a handshake are richer than long speech.
I preferred, in spite of this, to write some lines, as I think you will not understand my intention: a message
of compassion, friendship, support and expression of hope without any artifice (without any words).”
“…Masseuses had volunteered to give his men massages, he said, and he didn’t think anything would be more
soothing than getting a massage and listening to violin music at the same time. So at 9:00 p.m., I headed up to
the second floor as the first men were arriving. From then until 11:30, I played everything I could do from
memory: Bach B Minor Partita, Tchaik, Concerto, Dvorak Concerto, Paganini Caprices 1 and 17, Vivaldi Winter and
Spring, Theme from Schindler’s List, Tchaik. Melodie, Meditation from Thais, Amazing Grace, My Country ‘Tis of
Thee, Turkey in the Straw, Boil Them Cabbages Down.
Never have I played for a more grateful audience. Somehow it didn’t matter that by the end, my intonation was
shot and I had no bow control. I would have lost any competition I was playing in, but it didn’t matter. The
men would come up the stairs in full gear, remove their helmets, look at me, and smile.
At 11:20, I was introduced to Col. Slack, head of the division. After thanking me, he said to his friends,
“Boy, today was the toughest day yet. I made the mistake of going back into the pit, and I’ll never do that
again.” Eager to hear a first-hand account, I asked, “What did you see?” He stopped, swallowed hard, and said,
“What you’d expect to see.” The Colonel stood there as I played a lengthy rendition of Amazing Grace that he
claimed was the best he’d ever heard.
By this time it was 11:30, and I didn’t think I could play anymore. I asked Sergeant Major if it would be
appropriate if I played the National Anthem. He shouted above the chaos of the milling soldiers to call them to
attention, and I played the National Anthem as the 300 men of the 69th Division saluted an invisible flag.”
“Like Americans the world over, those of us who consider this peaceful refuge called Bloomington home received
a serious re-education in terrorism this week just passed.
We spent our days and nights riveted to computer screens, newspapers and television sets, our emotions
ricocheting wildly between shock, grief and anger as we witnessed terrorism in its purist form – the kind
conceived and executed by fanatical, frustrated military men like Osama Bin Laden and Timothy McVeigh.
We screamed “Holy shit!” when we saw that jumbo jet slice through the side of the World Trade Center. We gasped
in horror when the twin towers crumbled to the streets below, one atop the other. We vowed revenge each time
our eyes locked on an image of an innocent victim’s mother, husband, child or friend. We saw and felt terror
with our own eyes and hearts.
We also learned last week what terrorism is not. Contrary to the rhetoric of politicians and media, terrorism
isn't torching an inappropriately sited home in the Lake Monroe watershed or driving spikes into Yellowwood
State Forest hardwood trees. Such politically motivated acts of desperation may be cowardly and
counterproductive, but they’re not terrorism. Terrorists kill people.”
“Imperceptibly
“The only solace I can find in the aftermath of September 11th's horror is this...
“I don’t even watch the news (not that I ever did before). I turn the station on the TV and radio when they
talk about what is going on, I avoid conversations about it at work, I leave the lunchroom when the topic
looms. For some reason I want no part of it. I refuse to believe what’s going on or the ramifications of the
attacks. I'm tired of analyzing it from every angle and coming up with the “what ifs.” I have pondered this
over the last few days and the only time I can remember having this feeling was when my grandfather died and I
seemed almost cold. Not that I didn’t care, but I refused to see him when he was on his sick bed and would not
go to the funeral.
… Everyone, even people I don’t know, say to me, “I can't imagine what you’re going through,” “I’ve been crying
all day and I’m sure you have too”...etc. I’m just thinking, “Actually, no. No I haven’t been crying or going
through much of anything out of the ordinary or feeling guilty at all.” Maybe it’s because I am afraid. Afraid
to face the facts. Or does that make me stronger? Stronger to turn my head against this act of terrorism and
not feel hate or anger.”
“The permanent repetition of the term “civilised nations” as the targets of the terrorist attacks in media,
academia and politics is the expression of the first “cultural” trend that might be continued in future. This
constitutes a trend towards differentiation and drawing borderlines between people.
The extreme political focus on (national & international) security policy issues (although there is consent on
the impossibility of perfect security) is an expression of a second trend that might be important in the
future. This second trend might lead towards a repolitisation of the international relations. But is a
repolitisation not one of the major demands of the globalisation critics? Yes, it is, but in a different sense
of the concept. Whereas the opponents of globalisation are asking for a democratic social and liberal
internationalised “state” (in the tradition of John Lockes models), the repolitisation after September 11th
means something different – it is the reanimation of a “security“ state in the tradition of the political
philosophy of Thomas Hobbes.”
“…Ignorance is all over the world and with a little money behind it, this is the face of our enemy. For the
illiterate Afghanis, the lies are truth, religion is there love, happiness they cannot have without freedom.
Education is religion, and bloodshed is the stepping-stone to the freedom of their religion. A dark man who
hides behind religion leads his sheep down a twisted path. He inherited 80 million dollars at a young age and
recruits terrorists with food and mere dollars to the poverty stricken for which they have no choice but to
accept, and even those who don't accept are forced. If we are fighting ignorance, it is essential to find a
less barbaric effort than a war. This is exactly what they want: A war to end our freedom and feelings of
safety on American soil.”
“In the reality of those living and trying to survive on Planet Earth, it does not seem to make any difference
what is true or not, nor if truth even exists or not. What is “real” to each individual are the perceptions
held in his/her mind. In each person’s mind, what matters is the “meaning” of each event as perceived by the
individual. Belief Itself*, by its nature and definition, seeks to control the mind, its meanings and
perceptions. When a person truly believes anything, that person then establishes the option to become a
mind-controlled automaton—much more dangerous than any zombie from Hollywood—with the potential to cause
remorseless suffering because of, or for the cause of, that belief.
Do you know what beliefs control your thinking? Would you kill for your beliefs? Would you cause suffering for
your beliefs? Do you let your beliefs supersede your compassion and understanding?”
Restore our solemn creed
Dissolve this evil clan, we must
Our world will share this deed
An enemy without a face
Lay hiding in their caves
For as they tried to take ours
It’s their freedom we’ll enslave”
Elsie Harris has spent her 82 years of life in New York City. On the morning of Sept. 11, she watched
the horror unfold on a television at her doctor’s office on 23rd Street. Then, she witnessed the horror
firsthand as she tried to get home. Below is a passage from a letter she wrote a few weeks after the attack.
Colm Mooney is a 23-year-old from Dublin, Ireland, who is presently living it up in Australia. His essay
describes what Homer Simpson calls “cris-a-tunity,” a term inspired by the Japanese, who use the same word for
crisis as they do opportunity.
Julie Blake – a 25-year-old environmental educator in northern Arizona – attributed the Sept. 11 attack
to “a last-ditch effort of extremely impoverished people to take a stand against this world super-power I know
as home.” Rather than going to war, Julie hoped her county would instead embrace some humility and global
awareness.
Bob Johnson, 68, is an insurance agent in Anderson, Indiana, and retired United States Air Force major.
He’s also a proud American who is confident his country will prevail.
Marie-Odile Beauparrain is a 47-year-old nanny who lives in Vourles, France – a small village located
just outside of Lyon. Three days after the Sept. 11 attacks, she described the reaction of the French nation in
a letter to an American friend.
Mary Steffel, 20, attends Columbia University in New York City. The week following the Sept. attacks,
Mary wrote a series of columns for a newspaper she worked for last summer in Indiana. Below is an excerpt that
describes her experience on the National Day of Prayer.
When terrorists struck America, April Blair, an archaeologist from Australia, braced herself for World
War III.
James Neal is a 25-year-old businessman who lives in Phoenix, Arizona. Shortly after the Sept. 11
attacks, his father was admitted into the hospital with heart trouble and is now recovering from surgery. The
nationwide tragedy – coupled with his father’s illness – inspired a whole new outlook on life for James.
Jill Amstutz cringed when Americans were encouraged to get back to normal following the Sept. 11 attack.
Like many, the 34-year-old Indiana resident found hope in the tragedy – hope that Americans would become more
aware and more tolerant. As she describes, “Instead of a call to arms (although I suppose that is inevitable)
what of a call to minds, to thoughts, to understanding?” Here, she describes her sentiments.
Pierre Beauparrain, 26, grew up in France and now lives in South Carolina. At first, he thought writing
about the Sept. 11 attack was futile. But he then remembered his grandparents’ feelings about World War II:
Never forget.
Alice Blunden, who lives in Adelaide, Australia, has traveled all across the world in her 80-plus years
of life. One journey even took her to the top of the World Trade Center.
Jean Rene Bendix Thierry, 28, was born and bred in Denmark. Today, he studies economics in Copenhagen.
Although he is very critical of America’s international policy, he feels nothing justifies the massacre of
innocent people.
Yvel Guelce was born in Haiti, grew up in New York, and now lives in Indiana. While the 23-year-old was
saddened by the attacks, he remains extremely critical of the American government and media.
Jean Dubois is a grandfather who lives in France. Below are the brief yet poignant comments he offered
shortly after the Sept. 11 attacks. They are in French and English.
Kristen Lloyd and her husband, who live in New Jersey, keep a journal for their two young children. Here
is an excerpt from the entry the mother wrote in response to Sept. 11.
Dave Sherman is a social and environmental activist in his mid-thirties who lives in Flagstaff, Arizona.
The following is an excerpt from a letter he sent out immediately following the Sept. 11 terrorist attack. In
it, he emphasizes that while the attacks were certainly unjustified, they didn’t come from “out of the blue.”
Last year, Katrin Rode, a 25-year-old student from Germany, lost her father. The Sept. 11 tragedy once
again reminded her how precious and fragile life is.
On Sept. 11, Alex Russell, a 22-year-old student in Indiana, was awakened by a phone call from his
mother. Like most, he watched the horror unfold on television. In the days to follow, he began to contemplate
the appropriate response of the American government.
Willy Drieux, 31, was born in France and today works in Brussels, Belgium. When he was asked to write
about the Sept. 11 attacks, he promptly replied – with a blank email.
William Harvey is a young musician who studies at the Julliard School in New York City. On Sept. 17, he
had the most incredible experience of his life: He was asked to play at the Armory, where families of missing
people gathered and waited for news of their loved ones. By the end of the evening, William was also playing
for soldiers as they returned from digging through the rubble at Ground Zero.
Steve Higgs, 50, is a veteran journalist and communication consultant in Indiana who’s passionate about
protecting the environment. The following is an excerpt from a column he wrote for an independent newspaper.
The column explores real terrorism versus “eco-terrorism.”
The Sept. 11 tragedy kindled the poetic muse in Nicholas J. Meyerhofer, a 52-year-old professor at
Northern Arizona University. Below is an excerpt from his poem titled, “September 11, 2001.”
The world evolves.
Except on rare occasions
When normalcy implodes
In seconds
Like very tall buildings
And the inexplicable demands explanation
As our children attempt to understand
What cannot be understood:”
On the morning of Sept. 11, Jill Womack turned on the TV to watch the news before she headed to work. In
the days to follow, the 40-year-old artistic director who lives in Columbia, Missouri, tried to find meaning in
the tragedy.
If all those killed on Tuesday, September 11th were part of a greater plan to create peace,
If their deaths and their sacrifices were the impetus to move the world's nations, peoples, religions,
races,
and genders closer together,
If those lives unite us in a common purpose of peace,
If all those lives were lost to heal the living,
If all the present sorrow, grief, and anger, can be channeled into a future in which everyone - beyond borders,
politics, and theologies –
can live in peace, pray to whatever God they believe,
have freedom from
hunger, fear, and the right to grow in thought and spirit,
Then this terrible price will have some meaning, purpose and consolation.
Anything less is unbearable.”
Erin O’Neill, 23, grew up in Seattle and today lives in Weehawken, New Jersey – located just across the
river from Manhattan. Unlike most Americans, Erin’s life wasn’t turned upside down by the Sept. 11 tragedy…
Kristian Krieger, 26, was born in Bremen, Germany, and today studies politics of the world economy in
London.
In order to prevent “irrational stirrings,” Kristian opted to look at the Sept. 11 tragedy through a
philosophical point of view. In his essay, he describes a few societal/political trends that may arise from the
Sept. 11 attack.
Holly Dana, 26, recently moved to Pacific Beach, California, from her native town of Phoenix, Arizona.
In her essay, she searches for the root of evil – and she questions the effectiveness of war in wiping out that
evil.
As an artist, Ryan Laurita, 24, searches for beauty in everything. For Ryan, the Sept. 11 tragedy
revealed one of the most beautiful things of all: the flux that each individual endures…
“…I am an artist currently living in Denver, Colorado with a lot of choices, a lot of ambition, a lot of love
for my family, my friends, my natural idea, and an immortal thought that all of this tragedy we experience will
somehow vanish. I think it would be safe to speak for all when I say this: We all have immortal thoughts but
face tragedy, it will always be here. In most cases we bring this to our own table, and part of us dies within.
I believe that this builds your flux, your experience as an entity to my world for my own experience.”
For Jim Wood, 54, the notions of good and evil lie “in the mind of the believer.” Jim is an educator in
Indiana who leads seminars on thinking and behavioral management. He encourages people to become aware that
their actions and thoughts are controlled by their beliefs – and sometimes these beliefs can be destructive.
This was especially apparent on Sept. 11.
Peter Alderman was an ambitious 25-year-old who was adored by everyone he met. On the morning of Sept. 11, Peter, who worked for Michael Bloomberg, arrived early for a conference at the Windows on the World restaurant in the WTC… and sadly became one of the many innocent victims who didn’t escape the burning towers. On that tragic day, his parents were on vacation in France and couldn’t return home until Sept. 14 due to a halt on air traffic. Here, his mother, Elizabeth Alderman, of New York, describes the sunshine her youngest child brought to her life.
“Peter literally had hundreds of friends. People gravitated toward him. He was bright, he was witty, and he knew how to have a good time. But most importantly, Peter deeply cared for his friends. Everyone believed that they had a special connection to him. Eight days after Peter died we held a party for his friends at our home. More than two hundred friends came from all over the United States…many of whom he had known since kindergarten. We celebrated Peter’s life, toasting him with champagne and beer (his preferred drinks), eating his favorite foods, and telling Pete stories. We laughed and cried and no one seemed able to leave. The celebration began at one p.m. and was still going strong at five a.m.”
Jeanne McKnight, a loving mother and grandmother who has spent her 80 years of life in Indiana, struggled to find the words in response to Sept. 11. The following is from a letter she composed over a one week period. When she finally handed it over to her granddaughter, Jenna, she had tears in her eyes.
“I’ve always felt I lived in the best place on earth and I still do, although it will never be the same. I feel for my grandchildren, wondering what kind of world they face. They need to go about their everyday business as usual, but I know it is hard for them. Watching television makes me realize what a horrendous condition the whole world is in. I only hope our government leads us down the right path. It will be so difficult to fight an enemy that has no boundaries. But I have a lot of faith in our leaders. They are doing everything in their power to sort things out instead of immediately jumping into a full- scale war. I only hope and pray they are able to save the world.”
For J.L. Conrad, a 26-year-old linguistics assistant and poet in Boston, putting pen to paper offered some solace during the Sept. 11 tragedy. As she writes, “Billy Collins, Poet Laureate of the U.S., spoke on NPR about the recent atrocities and how they occurred in a place ‘beyond language’ – where metaphor fails to capture the magnitude of the violence and tragedy involved. What does this mean for me? That I will keep writing, that I feel it matters now more than ever – this creative act that provides a connection with others. In the aftermath, people are searching for meaning, for sustenance. While we cannot entirely provide this for each other, we can each do our part to add to the healing and not exacerbate the wound.” Below is an excerpt from a poem she wrote titled, “In This Light, Nothing Bad Can Happen.”
“To live means much more
than we’d thought, wearing
down the years, the days,
even the minutes ringing
our fingers. Low cloud cover
creeps past our foreheads,
our noses, until we drown
in the sea of our own unfolding,
a bare bulb dangerous
above the waters. Sorrow, or
what’s left of it grows
sullen as evening stills.”
Corbett Cummins, 23, grew up in “the National Park Service” and today lives in Davis, California. In his essay, the aspiring writer draws links between his family’s response to the death of his baby brother and the way America should counter the terrorist acts. Here, he describes his mother’s approach to paying off the family’s credit debt, which had mounted following their personal loss more than a decade prior.
“It’s just time and responsibility she tells me. She says the best way to look at debt is from a geologic perspective. You just wear it down in small amounts over a long period of time, the way wind wears down a mountain. Grief is similar to debt in that way. They both require the same tools: responsibility, force and time.
That is a lesson that has been brought to many of us over the past months. When I see reports of bombs falling in Afghanistan, I ask myself: "Why?" And each time I get the same answer. We are not trying to annihilate the Taliban out of pure righteousness; they were evil long before the December 11th attack, hence righteousness would have required an earlier assault. Nor are we truly trying to avenge the deaths of our countrymen. Further indiscriminant killing will not appease the dead. Nor are we trying to protect the world from terrorism, because terrorism comes from the very climate of despair and chaos that we are creating.
Grief. What comes to mind is Timothy McVeigh, the runner up for the largest act of terrorism in the United States…”
Petra Ehnar, a 22-year-old engineering student in Stockholm, Sweden, was at school when terrorists struck America. She didn’t realize how serious the attack was until she got home and turned on the television. She started to worry about her older brother, David, who worked in the WTC – and would learn in the days to follow that he didn’t survive. One week later, she and her family flew to New York. Today, she treasures every memory she has of David, her greatest role model.
“I could probably give a single digit for the number of times I have seen David the past six years, since he has lived in the States, but I’m afraid to count. I grasp for every memory of David. I have 106 emails; suddenly I number everything. Now every object associated with my brother has an immense value. The last photo taken, the last letter written, the last phone call made and the last goodbye said. These are the remains we have left of David.
September 11th will haunt me every single day until I too leave this world. Six months later it still feels surreal, although I experience the enormous consequences. For anyone having lost a loved one, things will never be the same again. It is like having a limb torn away. It doesn't kill you; you just have to learn to live with it, which is even harder because you relive the trauma every day.”
Amy Cahill, 27, and her husband were camping in Michigan when terrorists struck Sept. 11. Upon hearing the news, they rushed to a local store, where they were able to watch the devastation unfold on a television. Being a dedicated journalist, Amy debated whether or not she should cut her vacation short and head back to the newsroom.
“As we listened to the conflicting stories on the radio on the way back to our campsite, some reports making it sound like five planes had crashed, I wanted to be at work. I knew in the newsroom I’d be surrounded by televisions and able to read the most up-to-date information as it was broadcast on the Associated Press wire. Mostly, I wanted to know what the worst-case scenario was, how many people worked at the World Trade Center. I feared it could be as many as a million people. I thought about calling the newsroom, but knew they’d be too busy to talk. I thought about breaking camp and driving straight to work, but knew I wouldn’t be able to get there until after 7 p.m. – too late to be of any help. Shawn works at a chemical weapons demilitarization facility so we were also worried about what was happening there and how the attack on the Pentagon might affect his job.
In the end, we decided to stay and enjoy our vacation. It was the most beautiful day. The skies were a brilliant blue and the 70-degree weather was perfect for hiking in the sand dunes. As we stood at the top of one of the dunes gazing in the direction of Chicago but seeing only where the water met the sky, it was hard to believe that in another part of the country people were enduring unspeakable horror. There were no exhaust trails from airplanes to mar our view.”
Sheila McCoy, 22, was born in Iowa and today lives in Maryland. During the Sept. 11 attack, Sheila was in her office at the Department of Labor in Washington D.C. The following is an excerpt from a letter she sent the following day to family and friends.
“It occurred to us then that we could become a target because of our prime location directly between the White House and the Capitol. In fact, a tunnel system under the city connects the two buildings, and its path falls under our building. Already we could see people fleeing from the exit below us. Many had gone down to the daycare center on the first floor to get their children, who they carried or pulled hurriedly behind them. I made a quick call to my mother, and as we spoke, the alarm sounded and we were told to evacuate the building immediately. The stairwells were packed with people all wanting to get out of the building as quickly as possible, but for the most part, folks remained calm and at the landing for each new floor, a gap would open to swallow the people who were fighting to get out. When we stepped into the day, people began commenting on the scorched smell of the air. I don't know if it was real, but we could all smell it.”
Keri McGrath mourned with the rest of nation following the Sept. 11 attack. But a week later, the 26-year-old Indiana native was anxious to get back to work and put aside all of the horror she’d witnessed via the media. With renewed spirit, she arrived at her office complex, only to find a memorial service blocking the entryway.
“After a solid week of being unable to escape the images of buildings falling and people searching, I didn’t need more dramatic mourning. I needed to resume my life. Looking around at the crowd, I saw signs that my emotions were not singular pockets of selfish disrespect. Several other people clutching lunches and briefcases were also fidgeting, trying demurely to look around for a safe path to the front door.
With a few polite “excuse me’s” I made my way through the crowd, cutting in front of a line of firemen standing at attention as they had been for the past 40 minutes. Before the pathway could close behind me, about a half-dozen others followed suit, eyes turned downward so as not to meet the reproachful gaze of the crowd.
The clicks of my smart heels reverberated through the empty hallway. With a mixture of disdain for my behavior and resentment at the memorial service for blocking by way, I got on the elevator and stood stone-faced as the red light above the door indicated there were no other hurdles to keep me from my desk.”
Tom Carpenter is a 48-year-old writer and university administrator in Flagstaff, Arizona. His article, “How Deep is the Ocean?” – which ran in the local newspaper – begins with a poignant anecdote about taking a dip in the sea. It ends with a plea for forgiveness.
“Hundreds of miles away from the death and destruction, untouched but for unrelenting news coverage, how can I even speak of forgiveness toward those who are responsible; especially now, while so many dead have yet to be buried?
Why? Because, forgiveness is – must – always be an option. In the sky I see the reckoning reason requires rising like a mushroom cloud. I also feel the pull of that deep and vast unknown realm of forgiveness. Yet, the depth to which forgiveness reaches frightens me. What would it mean to forgive? How vulnerable does it make me? How does anyone forgive this? Even if our leaders were to tell us that our unilateral and irrevocable response to this heinous act of terrorism will be forgiveness, who would listen, who would agree? Who can argue with those who can’t forgive, who won’t forgive, who don’t know how?”
Shawn Cahill, 26, works at a chemical weapons destruction facility in Indiana that was put on high alert following the Sept. 11 attack. Here, Cahill describes the heightened security at the facility, which left him a bit unnerved.
“Big yellow plastic barricades, filled with sand, had grown in front of the gates. Cars were being searched at random. Badges had to be given to the security guards, not just shown. And, ‘Oh by the way, don’t pay any attention to the helicopters coming and going. They are here to meet with the base commander.’ A few days later everyone was told that military personnel would be coming to help the current security. No big deal, just some more people with guns running around the base. At least I knew they had training on using the guns slung over their shoulders. Men and women from the 101st Airborne had come to Newport. It wasn’t until the day after they arrived that I felt a little dread. My car pool partner was driving, and I awoke in the front passenger’s seat to find a fifty-five-caliber machine gun complete with operator watching me though the gate.”
It wasn’t uncommon for Brooklyn natives Margaret Mauro, 55, and her twin sister, Dorothy, to talk on the phone several times a day. But on Sept. 11, they spoke for the last time around 7:45 a.m. Dorothy worked in the WTC north tower and didn’t manage to escape. Today, Margaret, who lives in Tennessee, strives to keep her sister’s memory alive.
“I worked in the North Tower for nine years on the same exact floor my twin sister was working on that day in September. I had never heard it referred to as the North Tower. When I saw the second plane hit the South Tower, I left my job to drive home and wait by the phone to hear if my sister made it out okay. But I waited and waited and no call came. I sat glued to the television like so many other people did that day... and answered phone calls from caring friends.
I think that was the hardest day of my life. Five months have passed and there isn’t a day I don’t miss her and wish the phone would ring and it would be her on the other end, telling me she’s okay. We were extremely close; we spoke to each on the average of five or six times a day because we were the only two left besides my aging father.”
Rico Mei, 24, grew up in Arizona and today lives in Los Angeles, where he works in the film industry. Like many, he watched the Sept. 11 horror unfold on television. He submitted a series of photos, called “A Day on the Couch,” along with pictures featuring scenes around Los Angeles in the wake of the tragedy. Beyond his camera, Rico also put pen to paper – below is an excerpt from a poem he wrote right after the Sept. 11 attack.
“i’ve been watching
the careful orchestration of chaos
the mournful experiment in human nature
the disintegration of the airplane
its momentary absence
then the horrific creation of something new and powerful
an energy mutation no physics scholar could properly explain
black holed buildings the size of candy bars on my television
shot but still stumbling”
Jason Langrish, 30, was born in Canada and now lives in Brussels, Belgium, where he runs a consultancy in the areas of international trade, investment and public affairs. In his essay, he describes how land reform could foster a more equitable world and thus aid in the prevention of events such as Sept. 11.
“My thoughts on the events of the past while? First thing that comes to mind now is probably private property rights. Strange possibly, but with them, many problems would be solved.
Land reforms in poorer countries provide the poorest sections of society the opportunity to own something permanent: land and housing – this provides security, a sense of worth and an extension of one’s self. Additionally, it provides for risk and freedom to progress. If one owns property, they are much more likely to want to release both their latent capital and the latent capital contained in the property. In turn, this allows for the creation of wealth – going beyond subsistence existence and product development.
Think of the average Westerner: they leverage their mortgages to obtain a wide range of things, from education to automobiles. Analogies can be drawn to this at all levels. Additionally, landownership gives one both a stake and a voice – essentially, facilitating the development of democracy. It’s funny, because Westerners learned this rule several hundred years ago, and their society has flourished because of it.”
Ken Falk is an attorney who lives on Long Island and works just one block away from Ground Zero. On the morning Sept. 11 attack, Ken was in the Supreme Court building in Brooklyn. As he and thousands of others attempted to get home, he watched a thick cloud of smoke envelop lower Manhattan.
“I headed to Brooklyn Heights where there is a promenade area over the East River with direct views of the towers. There were hundreds of people staring at this awful sight of an immense dark cloud of death slowly drifting toward us across the river. A quarter portion of lower Manhattan was hidden under this cloud.
I had to walk two miles to a railroad station to find a train heading east to Long Island. The walk took over an hour when it should have been 20 minutes. The streets were jammed with people who had evacuated office buildings and stores. Later on I learned that my office personnel had run for their lives.”
Rob Whitley, 29, of England, is former president of the Federation of Young European Greens and recently ran for election to the British Parliament as the Green party candidate. The following is from a speech he gave Oct. 4 titled “Peace Not War.”
“We must remember however that in the face of evil, good springs forth. If we look at the events of the last few weeks, which images remain with us? For me it is the emergency workers, public servants. Fireman dutifully entering burning buildings to save life, ambulance workers battling against the odds to save life on the scene, police trying to control the situation and prevent further loss of life. Healing, restoring and saving life. There are the images of people across the World, giving blood, donating money, sending gifts. I saw firemen shaking collecting tins in Camden last week for their comrades across the Atlantic. Local schools, local newspapers, ordinary people around Camden have responded in a similar manner. We all saw Yasser Arafat, a man who leads a people whose freedom and progress has been shamefully hindered by the actions of successive US Governments, giving blood for the wounded of New York. We have seen basic but genuine acts of human altruism, decency, kindness. Simple but moving acts. We have seen the beauty of mankind emerge from the shadows of darkness.”
Lea Parker – a professor at Northern Arizona University – struggled to find the words in response to Sept. 11. Like many, she had many questions but very few answers. Here, she turns to her Christian faith for insight.
“Some are asking – where is God in this tragedy? If human beings are the ‘children’ of God, then God must be likened to a ‘parent.’ We must remember that a parent does not always have control when their children stray, when their children do wrong. Maybe God can’t control every action of every individual. Is there a ‘devil’ and if so, is this evil force controlling those who would take lives? I reach back into my Christian upbringing for answers, but there are none. Certainly, forces of good and evil have battled since the beginning of humans’ interpretation of the world. And the battle never seems to end.”
Julia Drzycimski, 19, was born in Iowa and today studies at Columbia University in New York City. On the night of Sept. 10, Julia remembers being concerned about getting home in the rain and finishing her homework. Never did she imagine the horror she would wake up to the following day.
“I did not wake up on Tuesday, September 11th, to my alarm clock like any normal day or any other September 11ths of my lifetime. I woke up quite a while before my alarm clock went off to my suitemate running up and down the stairs in total panic. I came out of my room only to be greeted by a distraught friend with fear in her eyes. As fast as her mouth would let her, the words ‘A plane has just crashed into the World Trade Center!!!’ were shouted at me. I could not believe what happened, so I ran upstairs and looked in utter horror at the television set. My eyes were in complete bewilderment and fear, as I still did not know the entirety of the situation. I then proceeded to look out the window of my very own dorm room. It was true. The billowing smoke was smothering the entire downtown area of Manhattan, what I have now come to call home. By this time everyone in my suite was awake and running around in complete confusion and fear. I could not believe my own eyes or ears that something of this magnitude was even possible.”
Lauren Molina, 20, was born in Detroit, Michigan, and today attends the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. On the morning of Sept. 11, she was getting ready for class when her roommate received a call from a friend telling her to turn on the television. Lauren wrote her poem, “Waiting,” two days later.
waiting
...waiting.
what are we waiting for?
for the world to crumble down,
tumble down,
crushing us into powdered disease
screaming louder than sound.
waiting
waiting
for the sky to fall
the ground to crack, bubbling up
troubling up,
burning beneath and numbing all senses.
waiting
waiting
waiting for...
Chris Bane-Hayes, 36, was born in Texas and today lives in Richmond, Virginia, with her husband, Andrew. On the morning of Sept. 11, she was at home sleeping when her distraught husband woke her up with news about the attack. At first, she was in denial that her brother, Michael, worked in the World Trade Center. She would later learn he didn’t escape the burning towers.
“We went down the stairs. I grabbed the cordless off the wall and heard the familiar beep to let us know there were messages on our phone. I then looked at the caller ID and saw there were many messages. My mouth dry, my heart palpitating, I raced into the living room and turned on the TV. It was incomprehensible; Tower Two had already fallen and the North Tower was billowing thick black smoke. The fire was raging and I was now freaking out. At the time, I could not remember what floor Michael was on. I knew he was still safe because Tower One remained standing. I called the first person who had left a message on the machine; it was my cousin, Jennifer, in Dallas, Texas. I asked her if Michael was at work that day, and she said with tears in her voice, ‘Yes.’ My knees buckled and I let out a pitiful wail. She said, crying, ‘I thought you knew already.’”
Jaimie Edgar – a 25-year-old from Arizona – was driving to work on the morning of Sept. 11 when she first heard about the attack. In the following days, she was shocked to see that most of the people around her expressed little interest in the national tragedy.
“I witnessed that the majority of people in Arizona didn’t react at all. People still ate out, people still shopped. At my job, it went almost ignored. In everyday life, the most you heard about it was in small talk. It’s as if people pretended it didn’t happen. People still don’t have a clue what to do.”
Agneta Palmblad – a 54-year-old Swedish native who moved to New York City in her 20s – always had a view of the top of the twin towers from her Manhattan apartment. On Sept. 11, she sat down to have her morning tea when she saw smoke filling the distant sky. When she learned the WTC had been hit, her thoughts went immediately to her two children and then to David Tengelin, a young Swedish man who had rented a room from her for nearly two years and worked on the 100th floor of the north tower. Unable to reach him by phone, Agneta set out the next morning to visit the apartment he shared with his friends.
“I got in the small building, not really knowing where I was going. I found the door and a young man opened. ‘Does David live here?’ ‘Yes.’ I introduced myself and came inside. There were three of his friends. ‘Do you have any news about David?’ ‘David went to work yesterday and did not come home.’ The simple, cruel words devastated me. There was a slim ray of hope, but I came out of there in a trance-like state. I walked home. There were no buses, only emergency vehicles and police everywhere. Reality had hit.”
Sara McCauley Slack, 52, is an intuitive and bold woman who lives in Indianapolis, Indiana, where she works as an art therapist. On the morning of Sept. 11, she was at home. She heard about the attacks while listening to National Public Radio while driving to her daughter’s house. In July, Sara submitted a chalk drawing she did several years ago. For Sara, the drawing, called “Through the Looking Glass,” embodied some of the thoughts and emotions she had in response to Sept. 11.
“My image symbolizes what every human must do … get out the magnifying glass and take a good hard look at REALITY. Take a good hard look at REASON. Take a good hard look at TRUTH. Look at the absurdity. We are a people stuck in a NATIONAL DENIAL SYSTEM (news analyst’s coined phrase). We are a society entrenched in addictive behaviors, lacking any personal insight and blaming anyone and everyone else for one’s own lack of personal responsibility. We are a society dominated by “the good ‘ol boys” system of loyalty with self-gratification as the primary agenda. Yeah … just like any garden-variety drunk or addict … an addicted society. It is so easy to profile and blame a dark-skinned foreigner with weird religious beliefs for our national fear. It is so easy to point the finger and ignore the three pointing back. We need to look closer. Our real enemy, our real fear, is right under our noses.”
Jeremy Read, 19, was born in Chicago, Illinois and today attends the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, where he plays on the football team. Jeremy was at school on Sept. 11. The following is from a poem he wrote on Sept. 12 titled,“The Game Must Go On.”
“In a time of tragedy,
A time of despair,
A time of shock to the world,
The game must go on!
In the worst of times,
We must continue,
We must be strong,
The game must go on!
We have been knocked down,
But not out,
We must get up,
The game must go on!
We are mourning a horrible day,
A day never to be forgotten,
But history shows,
The game must go on!”
Ivy Moreno, a law firm manager, is the bereaved yet proud mother of Yvette Nicole Moreno – a compassionate 24-year-old who died in the World Trade Center disaster. Ivy was born in the Bronx, New York, where she continues to live today with her son. On the morning of Sept. 11, she was at home getting ready for work. The following is from a piece she wrote in July in honor of her beloved Yvette.
“My beautiful daughter was a receptionist at Carr Futures, Inc., One World Trade Center. Yvette was 24 years old. She was single, living at home with me and her brother and she was of Hispanic nationality. Yvette was found on a World Trade Center overpass on her 25th birthday, October 4, 2001.
Few mothers are blessed with a wonderful daughter such as Yvette. As she became older, we became good friends. She shared her life with me, she respected me and sought my advice; she truly did her part in making our relationship work. My heart swelled with pride always. Yvette taught me about unconditional love, mutual respect and so much more. We were the “Wind beneath (each other’s) Wings.”
Yvette is missed very, very much by me, her brother, her family and friends. We miss her hugs, her kisses, her laugh – we miss everything about her. She had a cheerful nature, a good heart and a beautiful laugh. Yvette had an inner beauty that shone outward – a gift from God.”
Rob Whitley, 29, of England, is former president of the Federation of Young European Greens and recently ran for election to the British Parliament as the Green party candidate. The following is from a speech he gave Oct. 4 titled “Peace Not War.”
“We must remember however that in the face of evil, good springs forth. If we look at the events of the last few weeks, which images remain with us? For me it is the emergency workers, public servants. Fireman dutifully entering burning buildings to save life, ambulance workers battling against the odds to save life on the scene, police trying to control the situation and prevent further loss of life. Healing, restoring and saving life. There are the images of people across the World, giving blood, donating money, sending gifts. I saw firemen shaking collecting tins in Camden last week for their comrades across the Atlantic. Local schools, local newspapers, ordinary people around Camden have responded in a similar manner. We all saw Yasser Arafat, a man who leads a people whose freedom and progress has been shamefully hindered by the actions of successive US Governments, giving blood for the wounded of New York. We have seen basic but genuine acts of human altruism, decency, kindness. Simple but moving acts. We have seen the beauty of mankind emerge from the shadows of darkness.”
On the morning of Sept. 11, Craig Dennis – a 26-year-old software developer and musician living in Los Angeles, California – was working at home when he first heard about the attacks. Stirred by the tragedy, Craig put pen to paper and wrote a song called “I Am.” As he describes, “Sometimes, the only way I can get stuff off my chest is by writing. This was one of those cases.”
“I am American.
I am not proud.
I am not proud of not having pride.
I am not backing up the decision to kill humans.
I am not backing up the decision that will make anyone feel, on any scale, what we felt that day.
I am not willing to make anyone listen through violence.
I am not going to agree that this is the solution to the problem.
I am not going to agree that the message we are sending, “We won’t listen, and we will make sure you never talk again,” is the right one.
I am not going to agree that message is safe, healthy, or productive.
I am not ignoring the fact that America isn’t accepting any blame.
I am not ignoring ignorance.
I am not ignoring the fact that everyone needs to listen to everyone.
I am not forgetting that everyone wants and needs peace.
I am not listening to media manipulation, but, I am listening.”
Every day is still a struggle for Maria Ragonese, who lost her best friend and sister-in-law, Laura Marie Ragonese-Snik, on Sept. 11. Laura worked for AON Consultants on the 101st floor of the south tower and was one of the many who didn’t escape. Both Maria and her husband, Michael (Laura’s brother) submitted tributes to “Through Our Eyes.” Below, Maria, 38, describes some of her fondest memories of Laura.
“There isn’t a place in my life where I cannot find Laura. I can find her at the beginning, when we were teenagers signing each other’s Year Books, dancing at each other’s Sweet Sixteen Parties, and cheering each other on at our Graduation ceremonies. I can find her as we grew into young adults, when I fell in love with her brother Michael and we were so excited that on top of being friends, we were going to be sisters-in-law. I was a bridesmaid in her wedding and she was a bridesmaid in mine. I was there, step by step, with Laura as she prepared to give birth to her son, James, and she was the first one in the hospital room the day my daughter Briana came into the world. Like I said, there isn’t a place in my life where I cannot find Laura. There are so many memories, that to write them all down, would keep you here for hours. They are as endless as the love I have for her.”
For Marisa Dickmeyer, a 19-year-old musical theatre student at the University of Michigan, the Sept. 11 tragedy reminded her how precious life is… and how important it is for us to step outside our self-centered worlds and take the time to appreciate all of the good that surround us.
“I perform to help people relate, communicate, and reflect on different forms of existence. I want to provide an escape from the stress and fear of living. The stage is not the only place where people can make others connect with their emotions. I never know who just failed a test or accomplished their goal. No matter if the weather is miserable or the circumstances dire, a smile can always brighten anyone’s day. I try to smile at everyone, even my worst enemies. Mom always told me to ‘kill them with kindness,’ and that is great advice.”
The well-traveled Talise Dow, 25, grew up in Tucson, Arizona, and today lives in Portland, Oregon, where she holds down an assortment of jobs (volunteer coordinator for a science museum, Spanish science educator, physical therapy assistant, community news anchorwoman). On the morning of Sept. 11, she was in her living room watching television. She put pen to paper Sept. 11, Oct. 28, Nov. 14 and Nov. 19.
“I cannot say that I fell deeply into the schism of consumer-patriotism. I was gone from the USA this past year and my ties to Americanism were still a little weak at the time of the attack. My heart has tasted some of the tragedies other nations of the world must endure on a daily basis because of United States policy. This is, of course, no justification for what happened. I have tried to feel around for what is right on a global scale. But I have never considered war to be the answer.
I wonder what America stands for more often than I used to. I wonder, if the Taliban were to start making a state-of-the-art computer chip or some other thing of American value, would we buy it? I don’t really know that we wouldn’t.”
A college professor once told Richard K. Hardesty to take the road less traveled, and that’s exactly what he did. The 34-year-old self-employed singer/songwriter was born in LaPorte, Indiana, and today lives in Fishers, Indiana, with his two beloved dogs, Kapo and Tasha. Rich was at home Sept. 11 and watched the horror unfold on television. The following is from an essay he wrote Dec. 1 after a trip to New York City.
“Saturday at about 12 p.m., I was walking down West Broadway and heading toward ground zero. The studio that we were recording at was only a couple of blocks away from the rubble. The streets were clean and most of the businesses had a fresh coat of paint. As I moved closer to the site, I had a strange rush going through my body that I had never felt before. Things became very celestine, and it was very apparent that I was approaching a very sacred ground.
There were people crying and people smiling. There were people who didn’t know how to act. One of the guards was arguing with a woman and finally grabbed her camera and tore the film from it. This surprised me, as I had just taken a picture of another hero who had warned me to get down from a cement block that I was standing on. At one point, I noticed a gap in the tarped fence that kept people from the site, so I peeked through it to see the base of the biggest orange crane I had ever seen in my life. I had heard stories that you could not only smell ground zero, but you could taste it. It was true. There was a residue at the back of my throat and I can tell you it twisted me up for about 20 minutes. There was something that kept me near ground zero like a magnet. I was very surprised at how close you could actually get. The visions from the TV screen that had kept me awake many nights now had turned into an aftermath reality of taste and smell.”
Ryan Busby, 21, was born in Frankton, Indiana, and today attends Ball State University in Muncie, where he studies accounting. He was in class when he first heard hijacked planes had struck the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. The following is from an essay he wrote Sept. 20 titled, “Ruby Blood Red Tuesday.”
“My heart reaches out to everyone that was affected by this. This is truly the most awful thing I have ever seen in my life. Infamy to carnage. Our security has been manipulated by evil. No longer is society the same after that day of incident. What is yet to come? Where can I instill my faith? How will national distrust proliferate? Who will be susceptible? When will it occur next? The black birds circle above me in uniformity. Their patterns evade me. They caw like madmen. Landing on random trees, dropping their excrement on guiltless victims. In the backdrop of the deep evening sky, as wisps of white sail by overhead, and sunlight highlights green trees, a shadow inches slowly over the foliage. The fluttering American flag, spread-eagled to infinity, eclipses the sky. The carpet of colors remains above, protecting us from the world beyond. Life as we know it will never be the same. Arm that bloody musket with bullets, that machete, that machine gun. They made me a patriot. Don’t self-destruct, America our lady. God is in the house, and I mourn with the rest of the world.”