Tuesday, September 11, 2007

9-11. Some Are Over It.

I was looking through my archives for my 9-11 posts to see what I had written before, but I found this one from April, 2006. What set me off was a Kos diarist. I saw by reading through it, that it so expressed how I feel every year on 9-11, that I would reprint it today. (edited)

Some people are so over it:

"Somebody has to be the first one to say it. I'm over it."

"Yes I want to stop any future attacks, and yes I honor the victims, and all of that. But seriously? "Never forget?" Look, as abominable and shocking as it was, "never forget" is a bit much."

A. Bit. Much.

He's over it. Well, this chick ain't over it. And I will never forget. I will never forget the people of the sky. I will never forget the day that monsters took innocent people and flew them into hell. The only comfort I derive is knowing that the hi-jackers are the only ones who stayed there.

I will never forget the walls of faces they showed in New York City on TV every evening for weeks. The missing loved ones. Sheets of paper with the smiles of those no longer able to. The grief etched into the those wandering around clutching their flyers and their hope, but reality wrapping it's cold wet fingers around their heart.

I will never forget the phone calls from the planes and the towers. The last words of love and the bewilderment, confusion, and terror. All visited upon us. And for what? For some insane version of religion? For a belief in a twisted false God whose face is as black as the hearts of the men who listened to it's voice from hell?

Do you think I could ever forget THAT?

Not only will I never forget, I will make sure my children do not forget. I will show them the movies about 9-11. I will show them the footage and play them the newscasts. I will let them listen to the phone calls. I NEVER want them to forget what happens when we ignore the writing on the wall from monsters intent on killing us. Monsters who hate us for no other reason than who we are.

When I talk to my children about Stalin and Hitler, they will also hear the name Osama. They will know what it means when power and evil decide to eradicate a people. They will know what hate looks like. I want them to recognize it. I want them to memorize it's face. I want them to confront it, fight it, and never let it grow.

Let the ones at Kos forget. Let them "get over it." There are enough of us in this country, thank God, who will never "get over it." Enough to make sure none of us, even those who don't deserve it, ever have to suffer the broken heart of America ever again.

Related: A younger generation doesn't forget.

Update: An album of 9-11 photos. 5,244 of them. Amazing. Click slideshow, sit back and say a long prayer. via The Cotillion