When the Towers Fell

We must never forget 9/11, and expect our leadership to honor the loss

It’s just a regular Tuesday. The subway is noisy as you review your notes for the 9 a.m. meeting, a meeting that is never going to happen.

But you do not know this. How could you possibly know of the destruction of lives that would soon rain down on the streets of New York City?

How could you possibly know of the ash that will cover the faces of the hundreds of people running in the streets, right out of their shoes. You will never see the news coverage. You will never say goodbye.

Your body will rail through the sky like a broken-winged bird as you leap to your own death to avoid the raging inferno of your office. Your body will float through the sky, captured in news bits and aired across the world.

Your wife and new baby daughter will see these images. Your daughter will be raised hearing all about the terrorists and they will be like the boogeyman that lives in her dreams. They will be more real to her than you, her father.

She will listen to the news today as she prepares for her job and think about a president who wants to meet with terrorists in Camp David and she will shake her head in shame.

What happened to “we will not negotiate with terrorists?”

Now our President seeks to entertain some “big deal” with them. To entertain them? Will he give them each a signed copy of the Art of the Deal? Will he send one to the daughters and sons of those that exploded, those that burned, those that wept on the streets of New York on 9/11?

Why isn’t there raging in the streets over this? Camp David should not receive monsters. It should not be the meeting place of our enemies.

There are still those who would rejoice in seeing America destroyed. We should not invite them. Serve them tea? Here — would you like a cookie? This here is where we play golf —

The ashes of that day should never be swept completely away. They should permeate our thoughts like a simmering flame that will not be extinguished. Those people did not burn for naught.

“For me and my family personally, September 11 was a reminder that life is fleeting, impermanent, and uncertain. Therefore, we must make use of every moment and nurture it with affection, tenderness, beauty, creativity, and laughter.” — Deepak Chopra

Today I will turn off the news. I will sit and Netflix and chill with movies about 9/11. I will remember the horror as I sit here and cry with your ghosts.

In memory of the nearly 3000 innocent souls lost on September 11, 2001, while I chatted casually with a butt-crack wielding plumber who was fixing my dryer. While my kids were in school. While I hadn’t a thought in my head about terrorism.

“I will never forget seeing what hate can destroy… I will never forget seeing what love can heal…”
― Steve Maraboli

My country, my heart, is forever changed from the events of that day.

#remember911

Christina

This work is partly fiction/with a fierce political statement. What the United States went through on September 11, 2001 must never be forgotten. Our President should honor this tragedy in his decision-making process, and less his interest in rubbing elbows with the powerful.

We do not negotiate with terrorists — or do we?

Christina Ward 🌼 is a poet and nature writer from North Carolina.
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𝘐 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭-𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘳. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘫𝘢𝘮.

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