September 11, then and now

On September 11, 2001, I was at work in Tulsa preparing one of our corporate classrooms for a new group of employees. When I went back into our L&D office one of my coworkers asked me to turn on the radio in my cubicle because a plane had hit the World Trade Center.

With my first thought that it was a replay of the B-25 hitting the Empire State Building during WW2, I turned on my portable radio. We listened in growing horror as events unfolded.

Moving to the theater/auditorium where someone had put the television on the main screen, we watched, some in horror, some in anger, as the second plane hit the second tower. I stayed to watch people jumping to escape the flames, to hear about the Pentagon attack, and to see both towers collapse. I was one of the angry ones.

We had an office in one of the towers.

We were all released for the rest of the day. By the time I left the building, the sky was empty of aircraft and what contrails crossed the sky were fading.

I went to get my corporate-length hair cropped, shaved my beard, and trimmed my mustache back to military regs. I called the Army and had a nice young sergeant advise me the that they weren’t currently accepting applications from members of the Retired Reserve to return to active duty.

On Saturday, September 11, 2010, I flew my flag and attended our neighborhood block party. Now too old to be recalled to active duty, having been too high mileage and beat up to be recalled before reaching the magic age 55, I listened to my neighbors chatter and the children play. In the nine years since the attack on our country, people seem to have forgotten.

I haven’t forgotten. I haven’t forgiven. Every time I see people shaking their fists in rage screaming, “Death to America!” for some presumed or pretended slight to their religion or culture, I get angry all over again.

I’m tired of waiting for “moderate Muslims” in the United States to decry the violence and demonic behavior by their co-religionists. I’m tired of being “deemed” a racist and hater by people who hate me because I don’t believe as they do. I’m tired of being treated like some barbarian because I advocate defending our country, our borders, and our families from anyone who would do us harm.

I’m not sure when the change took place, the lessening of the anger, the numbness that replaced the shock, the complacency that replaced the calls to action, but I don’t like it one bit. What has happened in this country is like losing interest in WW2 sometime after Operation Torch and before Operation Overlord.

It’s time to replay the images of that day, complete and uncensored. People need to be reminded of exactly what happened and why. Those foreigners who demand that we honor the freedom of religion of their co-religionists need to be told to do the same in their own countries, allow freedom of religion. Those who don’t want their holy books burned should stop burning holy books. Oh, and the next time someone claims that I am a member of the “Taliban wing of the Republican Party,” I may just punch his lights out.

ECS
Captain, Armor
Army of the United States (Retired)