9-11: Personal recollections and lessons

What happened 10 years ago this Sunday in New York City, in D.C. and on a field here in Pennsylvania was a defining moment in American life. It also was, in many, many ways, very personal. We asked some of our readers, friends and neighbors if they would share those thoughts in short essays, under the theme of “The lessons of Sept. 11.” Here are some of those essays. 'That which we have no control’ What I learned from 9/11 (and the last few days, and reflecting on the earthquake, events in Norway, blizzards and the great Manhattan blackout of 2003, Hurricane Katrina...). Religious institutions are at their most vibrant and authentic when they function in the world. We plan programs and develop our worship spaces in order to entice people through our doors. But our true impact on peoples’ lives is when we (both clergy and volunteers) go into the messiness of the world. It also, strangely enough, becomes a place where the God of every faith hovers over those serving in the world, cooperatively, faithfully and together. Whether walking through the horrific aftermath of 9/11 the following day, delivering food and water to the rescue workers, organizing food delivery stations, spending time with EMTs as we waited for the arrival of body parts at the temporary morgue (or on the better and rare occasion the recovery of an intact body), to leading worship at an altar on the site of recovery effort in front of the temporary morgue, I was aware of being in the presence of the Holy embracing and surrounding the chaos. When there are television broadcasts of worship on the site of the aftermath of a disaster, I think to myself - yes, that’s it, that’s where we are supposed to be - the midst of it, unable to answer the question, “why did God let this happen” and still serving as a presence which, for whatever reason, through ritual and service, gives people (Christians, Jews, Muslims, Atheists, Agnostics….) a sense of hope and future. People are social beings - as soon as possible, we seek the company of others. The reassurance that we are not alone, that there are others who have shared this experience and understand. And, because we are such social beings, we cope best when we have some way to reach out and help others, allowing us to believe that we have a modicum of control in a world turned upside down. New Yorkers are resilient people. Disasters bring out the best in us. We become friendly, cooperative, generous and patient. We can cheerfully cope with an infinite amount of chaos for a limited, but reasonably long, period of time as long as we know: what is going on, what is being done to handle it, and when it will be better. And, less positively, what starts out as open-minded support eventually becomes a search for someone to blame a result of frustration over that which we have no control. The Rev. Alon White is pastor of Grace Episcopal Church in Monroe. What I have learned from 9/11 Heroes are everywhere I have learned that heroes have many faces and come from all walks of life. From the fearless firefighters, police, EMS and to many pedestrians and co-workers, a new source of strength and inspiration was born through the selfless acts of courage and bravery witnessed on that terrible day. And yes, a hero can be Jewish, Muslim, Christian, Hindu or even atheist. Terrorism has many faces I realize that terrorism has no singular flag, skin color, religion or country. It can be seen in the image of Al Qaeda’s leader Osama bin Laden, the so-called Christian Timothy McVeigh, and more recently Norway’s Behring Brevik. Each has chosen to use overly simplistic answers to justify their hatred which fuels their destructive paths. Each has also claimed that God is their partner. Americans should ask why I believe that there is really no acceptable answer for why the attacks on 9/11 happened, but I do think we should ask the question “Why” without any fear of reprisal from our neighbors or elected officials. Why were all fifteen attackers from Saudi Arabia and what caused them to blindly follow their leader to such a degree of destruction? While no answer will justify their actions, perhaps a discussion might lead us to better understand how some of our foreign policies put in place more than 60 years ago may well have fueled hatred and misunderstanding that others are utilizing today for their perverted means. If so, we might want to view our current policies with better forecasting for all of our tomorrows. Respect A few days each week, my son and I stop by a local deli to pick up a sandwich and a cup of coffee (the coffee is for me). The owner happens to be from Afghanistan. Each week, I would overhear others at the deli discuss what we need to do to his country (bomb it) and where his country went terribly wrong. Unfortunately, nobody has ever asked the deli owner for his opinion about the matter. One day at Barnes and Noble, I picked up a CD on how to speak basic Farsi, the language spoken in Afghanistan and Iran. Soon, we were able to say hello, thank you and good bye. Now, this doesn’t make us experts, but it does show respect. We might all need to show a little more respect. God? Since 9/11, I’ve heard many patriotic individuals reverently ask and pray that “God bless America.” I wonder if it might not be better to ask that “God bless the World.” Perhaps if we all benefit in the blessing of God’s love, we might be able to share this world more peacefully. We might also want to stop using God to justify our own anger. That is what I have learned. Viktoras Prizgintas lives in the town of Woodbury. He is the director of the Allegro Youth Orchestra. The question remains I’m not sure I learned anything from Sept. 11 but I came away with a question about myself that I’ve never been able to answer. I wrote about 9/11 for years as a reporter for The Record of Hackensack. The stories were from every angle. For example, one year after the attack I interviewed a woman from Glen Rock who was six months pregnant and whose husband never came home from the World Trade Center on Sept. 11. I wrote about life on Sept. 10 as well. When I wrote about the four planes that went down, I realized I could have been on board. Some passengers were flying on business. I’d done that. Some were headed for vacation with their families. I’d done that, too. Sept. 11 started as an ordinary day, turned to calamity, and ended, for me at least, with an impossible question: How would I have responded had I been on Flight 93, the United Airlines plane from Newark to San Francisco? What would I have done had I seen a hijacker holding a box cutter at a flight attendant’s throat? Or if someone barged into the cockpit? What would I have done when I knew the plane was making a U-turn and going downward with no announcement from the pilot? Would I have been frozen in my seat? Would I have understood this was serious beyond comprehension, that I’d never see my family, that soon I would be dead? I like to think I would have been with the courageous people aboard Flight 93 who, we later learned, tried to retake the plane from the killers. I like to think I would have had the courage to follow the indomitable Todd Beamer, the passenger whose last known words before springing into action were, “Are you guys ready? Let’s roll.” Would I have been ready? The question continues to haunt me. Jeff Page is a writer living in Warwick. 'A belief in making a difference’ We have learned a number of valuable lessons as a result of 9/11. There were a number of great people who lost their lives that day and will never be forgotten, especially for the cowardly way that they were taken from us. A country became united and people rallied together to help each other. In the 10 years since the tragedy, although a lot has changed, there are still a lot of good things that have happened. I think that a number of people have learned how important it is to be helpful to others that have experienced heartache and setbacks. We created the Tommy Dowd Memorial Foundation to honor and keep a great man’s memory alive. For the past 10 years we have raised money to give to high school students to continue their education and to other charities. It is extremely heartwarming to see a number of people get together a form a bond to memorialize a great man. And the best part is that most of these folks have never met the man but believe in making a difference. From visiting a genuine hero such as Sergeant Eddie Ryan and helping him with the huge rehabilitation costs he is undergoing to helping a student realize their dream of going to college are examples of helping others in the name of a great man. Greg O’Connor is president of the foundation named after his friend and fellow softball player, Thomas Dowd on Monroe, who died in the World Trade Center attacks on Sept. 11. For more information about the foundation and the work it does, visit www.tommydowdmemorialfoundation.com. Cars in the parking lot September 11, 2001, will always be one of the happiest days of my life. What a peculiar way to begin. Let me explain. My wife and I had gone to bed the night before knowing that our daughter who lived in Seattle was in the hospital in labor with her first child and our first grandchild. About 6:20 A.M., our son-in-law called to say that we had a new granddaughter - “mother and child doing well.” Two and a half hours until terror would strike - two and half hours of untarnished happiness to call friends and relatives with the good news. The day had dawned bright and clear. The September sun was warm and the sky was a perfect blue. I had retired just months before and all seemed right with the world. My wife, who was a first grade teacher at Smith Clove Elementary in Central Valley left for school about 8 o’clock. We were both on a high about our new granddaughter. It was a couple of minutes before 9 a.m. when my sister-in-law called from Phoenix. She told me to turn on the TV. Every station was reporting that “something had hit the World Trade Center, apparently an airplane.” There was clearly confusion about what had happened. TV pictures were already clearly focused on the WTC showing smoke pouring out of one of the towers. For a few precious minutes I thought “accident … horrible accident.” And then in one incomprehensible moment, along with millions of other people, I watched another plane slam into the other WTC tower. In that instant, it became shockingly clear that there were no accidents happening. Soon, there were reports of a third plane crash at the Pentagon in Washington, D.C., and a fourth in Shanksville, Pa. Meantime, TV was also broadcasting, live and in terrible disbelief, the collapse of the WTC towers, both in quick succession. Sometime in mid-morning, I went outside. Neighbors were beginning to gather as if there was need to be with someone as we all tried to grasp what was going on. At one point, a Woodbury police officer came along on a motorcycle. It was a strange moment as he was as bewildered as we were. He said the town was on highest alert and, among other things, Woodbury Common had been closed. Any place where large crowds gathered was considered to be a possible terrorist target. My two children were in different parts of the country. My daughter was in a maternity ward in Seattle and I was very concerned about my son and the situation he was in. At the time, he was a White House reporter for Associated Press and I did not know if he was in Washington, D.C. or somewhere else. It turned out he was with President Bush in Florida when word came of the terror attacks. They immediately flew the President out on Air Force One but my son, and the rest of the press corps, were grounded in Florida. They eventually chartered a bus and all rode for 18 hours back to D.C., safe but frustrated they’d been stranded for the first stages of the biggest story in anyone’s experience. Ten years later, there continues to be a flood of memories when I think back to 9/11. Two rise up, though, as being among the most poignant for me. Perhaps they’ve taught me the most. First, about the fundamental goodness of people and second, about the importance of finding joy in the midst of tragedy. One was when my wife called from school and said she did not know when she would be home. The school officials could not be sure if some parents wouldn’t come home at all - victims of the terrorist attacks. As a result, the teachers volunteered to personally escort every child home, and if no family member was there to meet them, they brought the children back to school, kept them, fed them and were ready to keep them overnight or as long as necessary. Fortunately, no parents from Smith Clove were lost. My other poignant recollection was going to the Harriman train station from where I commuted for nearly 30 years. As I drove into the huge lot a day or two after 9/11, I could see near and far cars onto which someone had tied yellow ribbons. These turned out to be cars belonging to people who got on the train the morning of 9/11, as they did every other morning, but these people never came home. As I looked across the lot, it was very quiet and a breeze rippled the ribbons gently. At that moment, I could not totally comprehend what had happened to those innocent people or to so many others. Today, I’m still not sure I can comprehend it. Nevertheless, in the midst of the horror 10 years ago, I realize that there was joy as well that day for families like mine to whom life was given rather than taken away. My granddaughter’s beautiful smile, as she now turns 10, makes me cling to the hope for a better and brighter future. Fred Lindlaw lives in Highland Mills. 'We are in this together’ As I sit in anticipation of yet another disastrous event in the lives of New Yorkers, I am reflecting on our Sept. 11 experiences. I guess Irene is stirring up some of the same emotions. The great difference is that we are expecting this and are trying to be prepared for it. Another commonality is the sense of togetherness: Neighbor helping neighbor and the feeling that we are in this together. I think we need more of this, not just in emergencies. It shouldn’t take a disaster to make us use our humanity for the better. I now know how my mother and father felt about Pearl Harbor. This was even more torturous for them. The thing that has changed for me since Sept. 11 is that I feel I am more hesitant than spontaneous. I really do not want to go too far from home. It took about five years for me to venture out. I guess it will take time. When my children travel, I am very nervous. I know people complain about the lines in the airports, I am thankful for them - though the reports tell us more can be done. The lessons learned from 911 are that people have become more vigilant in noticing things that seem out of order. We all need to be responsible and speak up. We need to appreciate all the sacrifices made by everyone then and now. Lives were changed forever. Our soldiers are still away from home and that is the nature of the job. I actually just got an e-mail from Cpl. Timothy Zilliox, thanking donators for support. They are always so thankful and should not be forgotten nor all the other great Americans that service our communities. Where would we be without them? Sept. 11 makes me thankful for what I have! Kathy Aldinger lives in Monroe. She is a teacher at Pine Tree Elementary School and is the local coordinator for www.anysoldier.com. The American movie We love movies, especially ones with a happy ending. That is why, ultimately, Osama had to die. In our Hollywood world the bad guys always get what they deserve; just ask the audience. The issue is that, much like in a Hollywood production, the film may end but not the franchise. The villain, like the mythological Hydra, shall grow two new heads for each one lost, and the plot, with little tweaks, will be recycled. Pass on the popcorn. Looking at the ten years that passed since the events of 9/11, what have we achieved? We’ve invaded Iraq; an act many claim was unnecessary and fueled much by a need for revenge. We uncovered no Weapons of Mass Destruction. We got entangled in Afghanistan. Many lives were lost, much money was spent, and yes - we eventually took out Osama. The bad guy got what he deserved. But did we? Don’t get me wrong - I believe we should absolutely eliminate our harm-seekers at the source. But what path we take to get there, is disputable. Acts stemming from revenge provide short-lived relief at a high price. In the greater scheme of things, it seems American interference in local events outside our country achieves little to limited positive long-lasting effects. On the contrary, quite often it causes locals to harbor even more hatred for us. So what is the moral of this movie? Big changes seem to happen regardless of our invasions, all in due course. The fall of the Berlin Wall and demise of communism, the termination of Apartheid in South Africa and the latest fall of dictatorships in the Middle East. History teaches us that in most cases, American intervention just enforces a justification for all that we stand against - be it Castro’s regime, North Vietnam or the creation of Bin-Laden as a weapon against the USSR, our shared enemy in the days of the Cold War. Sun Tzu’ ancient classic “The Art of War” states “There is no instance of a nation benefitting from prolonged warfare.” It is a lesson we, as a nation, forget every couple of decades. Ronan Divon is a writer living in Monroe. The value of freedom Sept. 11 orchestrated a new era for America: No matter how much we try to protect the people of the USA, the philosophical terrorist mind-set of others will continue to try and strip away the freedoms our country has protected for decades. It helped many understand the dedication of the NYFD and NYPD and their disregard for personal safety in order to save others. It showed how Americans can bond together for a cause, and there is no cause that has bonded us as Americans greater than the bond of freedom. The daily freedoms afforded us have been provided through years of sacrifice associated with every branch of the military, freedoms that have caused our family to never take for granted. If we take away one lesson from 9-11 it should be to respect, support and thank all those who, on a daily basis, put their lives on the line for the freedoms and safety of all who live here. Tony Cardone is a business owner and supporter of many school and community programs for young people in the Monroe area. 8:46:26 a.m. When I think of 9/11, it is in a series of memory snapshots. I see the color of the sky, so pure that Crayola could name a crayon 9/11 Blue and we would all choose it to draw a perfect day. I see the TV footage of the South Tower collapse. It is there one minute, a burning backdrop for the news anchor, then there is a roar of the collapse, then silence. I see the stricken face of a woman in black, her young children at her side, at the burial of her dead husband at St. Mary’s Cemetery in Washingtonville. In truth, though, I rarely think of 9/11 at all. It was a long time ago, in a different world, a different America. That country is lost to us now. America was destroyed that day, perhaps not in the way Osama bin Laden intended and not right away. In the weeks and months following the attacks, we responded gloriously. We were Americans, and we were one. We joined hands and hearts as we vowed to rebuild what bin Laden had torn down, to stand tall in the face of a common enemy. The light that was America burned so brightly. But in the decade since those first terrible days, that light has sputtered and dimmed. We’ve grown petty and mean, we hurl invectives at one another about mosques and immigrants, our airwaves have filled with hate-mongering. We’ve grown tepid in our response to world suffering - what starvation, where is Somalia, who cares? We are ill-mannered and lazy. We have spawned a political party that draws its strength from stupidity. Racists have won the day, and there seems little outrage as they toss lies like hand grenades at our black president. We have descended into an abyss of suspicion and ignorance, fear and opportunism. Tea Partiers are the carpetbaggers of 9/11, and they are picking over the corpse of what was once our great nation. When I think of 9/11,1 yearn for the rebirth of solidarity. I yearn for the rebirth of determination. I yearn for the rebirth of intelligence. And I yearn for the blue sky of America that we looked up to with confidence until 8:46:26 a.m. on Sept. 11, 2001. Beth Quinn is a writer living in Goshen. Candles on the front steps I’d only been in the neighborhood for a year and a few months when it happened. I live in the Maple Knolls development, off Mine Road. I’d met most of the neighbors from school bus stop conversations, the local book club and introductions at PTA meetings, but didn’t really know what a special place we’d moved to. But then 911 happened. That morning, just after the school bus left, I walked to a neighbor’s to discuss a PTA program and she let me in, panic-stricken. “Have you seen the news?” I hadn’t. From her living room, we watched the second plane hit and were speechless. Was it a stunt? An accident? One plane hitting, maybe, but two? I knew I had to get home and walked the block and half back to my house. My neighbor across the street called and invited me over to watch at her house and there was comfort watching this together. By then, another neighbor joined us. And then another. I can’t remember a time I wasn’t being offered a cup of tea. We worried about our kids in school. What was the staff doing? Were principals and psychologists ready to handle whatever this was? Like the Kennedy assassination, we’d remember that Tuesday morning. But, once the kids came home from school, (and it only dawned on me later why I saw teachers on the bus - just in case a child was let off without anyone there to pick them up), plans went into place to start a collection for the rescue workers down at “ground zero.” If we couldn’t get down there physically, we’d be there another way. Sapphire Elementary was one drop off point and the following Saturday, drivers were going to deliver the donations to firehouses. We collected and packed socks, water bottles, food, first aid kits, spare clothing, whatever we could think of that would help. The amount of items collected blew me away, the number of people volunteering was amazing, and the level of generosity from business owners, and just the community in general, brought us all to tears. One night that week, Maple Knolls neighborhood came together to hold an impromptu candle ceremony, something the kids could take part in. We simply walked around one of the blocks, holding lit candles. Many of us left the candles burning on our front steps that night. MJ Goff is a writer living in Monroe. Every conversation The night of the Sept. 11 attacks, my synagogue held a prayer service. The sanctuary was packed. Everyone needed to cling to something, to find some hope amongst the devastation and I was no different. I went there grateful that all those I held dear who worked in and around the area had returned home safely. I soon learned Michael Asher, one of our congregants, was amongst the missing. He lost his life that day. Together, we prayed for him, his family, for all the victims and families of Sept 11. And we prayed for each of us. As Americans, our innocence had been shattered. I didn’t know how I would ever make sense of the world again. I only knew that I must, for myself, and maybe even more importantly for my children. Attending that service, surrounded by others, was the first step in making sense of the tragedy. I realized that for me it was important to believe in a higher power. On my way to the service, I couldn’t even explain the reason for going. If there is a G-d, how could this have happened? Leaving the service, I realized that I needed for G-d to exist, to help explain the unexplainable. Compassion is always the best way to get through tragedy. I remember the days after September 11 as a time when everyone came together. Every conversation included inquiries about loved ones. How were you affected? Who did you know? You cared about everyone, even those you disliked on Sept. 10. Bonding with others helped. We wore our patriotism on our sleeves; red, white and blue ribbons adorned our chests and flags waved from our cars. We were and are Americans, standing together. The lessons of Sept. 11 for me are very simple: No matter how bad this world gets, hold on to your faith, your family, community and compassion. They are the rocks from which we gather strength. Elora Kalish is a writer living in Highland Mills. Flashbacks I pulled into the parking area at the Key Bank office on Union Avenue in Newburgh several minutes before 9:00 a.m. on Sept. 11, 2001. The car radio was tuned to 880 CBS news station. Just as I reached to turn the radio off, there was a news flash. A jet airliner hit the upper floors of the North Tower of the World Trade Center. My mind flashed back to July 1945 when a B25 Bomber crashed into the Empire State Building. The 1945 accident was on a rainy, foggy day. Sept. 11, 2001 was a clear sunny day. The radio station switched to a caller who was in an adjacent building overlooking the WTC and saw the destruction. In a high pitched voice, he hysterically screamed and cried as he described the havoc. There was smoke and flames leaping from the upper floors of the North Tower. Then he shouted, incredulously, that another jet hit the South Tower. I sat in my car trying to make sense of this calamity. Two planes? This was not an accident. This was deliberate. Was it the terrorists who bombed the World Trade building in 1993 or the Federal Building in Oklahoma City in 1995? Shortly, the perpetrators of the this dastardly act announced who they were. Bin Laden and al-Qaeda declared war on the United States. This was professionally planned and executed by a rogue organization intent on “destroying” America. The names Bin Laden and al-Qaeda would be forever part of our history like Minutemen, Bull Run and Appomattox. No longer would the Atlantic and Pacific oceans be a barrier. Our airports, political centers, water systems, nuclear facilities, etc., would be endangered. Again, my mind flashed back to Dec. 7, 1941 when another enemy of our country, Japan, bombed Pearl Harbor. As we declared war on Japan after Pearl Harbor, so too, we now declared war on al-Qaeda. But this war is like no other war. There are no “armies or navies” - just pockets of organized/unorganized groups that attack us anywhere in the world using Kamikaze tactics like suicide bombers, IUD’s, shoulder rockets and possibly nuclear weapons. In an emergency, we call 911. Isn’t it ironic that on (9-11-01) the world was given a wake up call Now, the world must join together to defeat Al Quaida and all terrorists groups. Their message is one of destruction. They cannot and must not succeed. Harvey Horn lives in Monroe. He is a veteran of World War II and a former prisoner of war.