posted on Sep, 11 2005 @ 11:30 AM
I was actually in bed that morning 4 years ago, when I received a call on my cell from my brother. I was groggy from just waking up to the sudden
sound of my phone ringing, and I forget his exact words.... something along the lines of "they're attacking the World Trade Center." The first
thought that came to mind was the Russians firing missiles at the WTC in their Mig jets, and that we'd just been blind-sided by our former foe.
As I watched the events unfold on television, I immediately knew, as did my brother, that this was the work of terrorists under direction from Osama
bin Laden. My brother and I had been interested in terrorists and their organizations for years. bin Laden was a household name to us long before
9/11 and the USS Cole attack. I've always read about suicide bombers, Hezbollah, Hamas, al Aqsa Martyr's Brigade, PFLP, Black September, Islamic
Jihad, Egyptian Jihad, and so on. So I was no terrorism novice as many who awoke on 9/11 to a new world were.
I watched the events unfold with anger and rage. I was so enraged that anyone would do such a thing, and target innocent civilians on such a large
scale. Those were mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers and daughters and sons who were doing the most basic and simple American thing- going
to work. They were putting food on the table for their families. Most of them didn't know about the plight of the Palestinians, or our billions in
yearly aid to Israel, or our support for an oppressive regime like the House of Saud. Nor were they directly responsible for any of it.
I remember calling virtually everyone I knew. They all shared in my anger and horror. Then I remember thinking of my father, who had died a month
earlier. I wondered what he would think. I wondered if maybe God had spared him from the horror of the attack and the terrible times that lay
That afternoon, two of my best friends and I went to the local hardware store and bought every remaining American flag. We then went to every local
Arab-owned gas station. We discussed the events with the turbin-topped men who normally pumped our gas. We had them join in with us in renditions of
"God Bless America." They held the American flags with us and posed for pictures (which I still have and should post sometime, they're pretty
funny.) I remember another local Arab-owned gas station had closed, and their employees fled in fear of reprisals. The local Arab-owned "quickie
mart" was staffed by an undercover police officer, perhaps waiting for something to happen and to protect the innocent man behind the counter.
It was an awful day. One that I never imagined would ever happen, but was not too surprised once it did. I remember the anger. I remember the rage.
I remember the tears running down my mom's face, and her asking me if we were going to be okay. I remember the uncertainty. That night, I remember
the calming words of our Commander-in-Chief. I remember it not mattering whether we were Republican, Democrats, Independent, Christian, Muslim,
Jewish, black, white, red, orange... we were all Americans. And for the days, weeks and months that followed we saw an unparalelled level of
patriotism- one which I think we should always have had regardless of the events in the world- and one which is once again absent today. How I wish
for that pride, unity, patriotism, and love for our fellow man to return... but without the horrible circumstances.
Well, I hope I didn't rant on too long!