Watching television this past weekend, the constant and heartfelt theme was, “we all remember where we were and what we were doing when the first plane hit…” and rightfully so. This day, September 11, 2001 was a turning point in modern history.
I struggled for the longest time with the details from that day because I was deep into my addiction working night shifts at the local intox-shelter… even when I was awake back then there was usually some kind of chemical in my system keeping me from feeling while at the same time keeping me moving.
They were hard days and harder nights in general, but then it happened and nothing in my life seemed hard any longer.
This traumatic event had a far reaching effect on my mind like so many others; it acted like a heavy dose of morphine, alcohol, and valium being slammed into my system by a flame thrower. It literally put me into a state of shock I could not fully grasp immediately, but have since felt gradually ever since that day…
I had worked the night before and slept all through the day missing the early coverage and reactions of the event from around the world. I walked to the gym with my head phones in, music buzzing quietly in my skull to avoid outside interference, but the mood was different all around me; people looked more frightened than usual. I imagined I was just being paranoid, which was not unusual at the time.
I had no idea what was going on and it wasn’t until I made it to the gym that I saw anything, as I lived without the hundred and fifty-five channels of cable in those days and avoided the media like it was a plague because in general, I found that it was.
I boarded the treadmill for my daily dose of cardio to loosen up before weights and every channel showed the same footage of planes crashing into the towers; my mind, still foggy and isolated imagined there was a new movie out and it was getting an awful lot of attention.
After a few minutes, my initial theory stopped making sense and the repetitive scene of planes crashing and buildings burning tuned me in to the actual horror. I plugged my headphones into the television system connected to the cardio equipment and refused to believe what I was hearing and seeing.
The mind panicked at first, but then shock set in and disbelief, followed by denial until acknowledgment settled in with even a deeper sense of shock.
I slowed down and walked clumsily, as tiny bits of the whole story started to blend together inside my brain.
From out of the blue it hit me; the “what”, which would happen next…even in my fogged head, I knew war was coming. In my heart, there beats the American pride, albeit slightly subdued now from years of contemporary Canadian liberal, conservative thought and education; it is alive and well in me.
We all knew war was coming, gathered around the lobby television watching in a small cluster of regulars. We stared at the T.V. and we knew; rage passed through us, as we made brief eye contact, holding each other’s gaze only long enough to feel safe for a moment.
Bush was in power and although that fact scared the shit out of me, I knew it would not have mattered who was there; that person, whoever they were, would become the eye of our storm and every enemy of the country would become that quiet coastal city after a serious hurricane blows through.
Barely recognizable.
I was afraid for the world because the bear had been napping deeply and everyone knew it was pure idiocy to kick the bear in a silent state of hibernation. This thought went through my head like a freight train, as it seemed impossible that the world would be left standing when it was all said and done.
Spiders crawled up my spine as I looked on in awe and slight, hidden terror. Then the tears began welling behind my eyes for the fallen, for the fallen who would come, and for their families… I slipped away from the group and went into the shower where my tears could hide. The full effect I am sure did not hit me in those initial moments, but I knew as the hot water ran down my body; we would lose so many more before this was over and that was enough to start the chain reaction.
I started to pray a forgotten, muddied prayer.
The water ran.
And the tears fell.
I did not fully understand in that moment where the tears came from because I hadn’t cried in months. My skin burned, eyes ached, and my heart beat quickened until I nearly passed out. It was a moment when I was fully connected to the human race and it had been a long time since that happened to me.
I could not wait to dull the pain and disconnect myself once again…
I am sure since the beginning of that heavy trial for America, her people, and the rest of the planet as a whole; I am not alone when I cringed each and every time a bomb dropped and continued to drop around the globe as the storm raged on.
Every time reports came home of more soldiers being killed in action, I shed tears and said a prayer.
Day to day.
Year to year.
We persevered.
We carried on…
As I watched and prayed from my sideline seat, more of our ground zero responders were found and families were left without, knowing the heroes they lost had so valiantly given the ultimate sacrifice for their fellow men and women. I can only imagine that as much as that may have helped as time passed in the grieving process, in the initial moments I found it would be small consolation when I put myself even relatively in their shoes.
From that moment on, the country and her allies united in a single minded purpose to make things right again. To let the world know that such things do not happen and the men and women who serve as our direct line back to a safety, security from terror continued to make the ultimate sacrifice for what has now been ten years.
I am very proud of what they did and what they do for us.
I shall never forget.
I am proud to call myself an American and equally proud to call myself a Canadian because in the time of need, our men and women joined the struggle without hesitation and went across the globe together to send the message; we are united, we shall prevail.
We did not just fight a war with no regard; our soldiers, our aid workers, and our people spent money, time, blood, sweat, and tears helping the best we could in those countries while we searched and found the men responsible for the despicable actions of that day ten years ago.
And we still give to this day.
Watching and hearing the unity this past Sunday reminded me of something I tend to forget; we are all united in our pain, struggle through and memory of these events as well as those daily events we experience.
Perhaps now we can become united in building a community where such actions are so deplorable by every human being they are no longer necessary or tolerated by anyone.
I know how unlikely that is because there will always be inequity of income and status to some degree and with that will come instability of regions and groups, but I can pray…
And my prayers and hopes are simple; may we find peace and know love.
May we hold our heads and hearts high, but hold our soldiers even higher.
May we never forget where we came from as a community nor who brought us through the storm with no thought of self-preservation.
With all of this I shall do my best to contribute love, tolerance, peace, acceptance, and understanding into the world around me, wherever I might be placed by God. I know it is not possible for perfection, but with certain facts in mind, it is possible for me to do better today than the last.
By the Grace of God we go,
David W. Lewry
I struggled for the longest time with the details from that day because I was deep into my addiction working night shifts at the local intox-shelter… even when I was awake back then there was usually some kind of chemical in my system keeping me from feeling while at the same time keeping me moving.
They were hard days and harder nights in general, but then it happened and nothing in my life seemed hard any longer.
This traumatic event had a far reaching effect on my mind like so many others; it acted like a heavy dose of morphine, alcohol, and valium being slammed into my system by a flame thrower. It literally put me into a state of shock I could not fully grasp immediately, but have since felt gradually ever since that day…
I had worked the night before and slept all through the day missing the early coverage and reactions of the event from around the world. I walked to the gym with my head phones in, music buzzing quietly in my skull to avoid outside interference, but the mood was different all around me; people looked more frightened than usual. I imagined I was just being paranoid, which was not unusual at the time.
I had no idea what was going on and it wasn’t until I made it to the gym that I saw anything, as I lived without the hundred and fifty-five channels of cable in those days and avoided the media like it was a plague because in general, I found that it was.
I boarded the treadmill for my daily dose of cardio to loosen up before weights and every channel showed the same footage of planes crashing into the towers; my mind, still foggy and isolated imagined there was a new movie out and it was getting an awful lot of attention.
After a few minutes, my initial theory stopped making sense and the repetitive scene of planes crashing and buildings burning tuned me in to the actual horror. I plugged my headphones into the television system connected to the cardio equipment and refused to believe what I was hearing and seeing.
The mind panicked at first, but then shock set in and disbelief, followed by denial until acknowledgment settled in with even a deeper sense of shock.
I slowed down and walked clumsily, as tiny bits of the whole story started to blend together inside my brain.
From out of the blue it hit me; the “what”, which would happen next…even in my fogged head, I knew war was coming. In my heart, there beats the American pride, albeit slightly subdued now from years of contemporary Canadian liberal, conservative thought and education; it is alive and well in me.
We all knew war was coming, gathered around the lobby television watching in a small cluster of regulars. We stared at the T.V. and we knew; rage passed through us, as we made brief eye contact, holding each other’s gaze only long enough to feel safe for a moment.
Bush was in power and although that fact scared the shit out of me, I knew it would not have mattered who was there; that person, whoever they were, would become the eye of our storm and every enemy of the country would become that quiet coastal city after a serious hurricane blows through.
Barely recognizable.
I was afraid for the world because the bear had been napping deeply and everyone knew it was pure idiocy to kick the bear in a silent state of hibernation. This thought went through my head like a freight train, as it seemed impossible that the world would be left standing when it was all said and done.
Spiders crawled up my spine as I looked on in awe and slight, hidden terror. Then the tears began welling behind my eyes for the fallen, for the fallen who would come, and for their families… I slipped away from the group and went into the shower where my tears could hide. The full effect I am sure did not hit me in those initial moments, but I knew as the hot water ran down my body; we would lose so many more before this was over and that was enough to start the chain reaction.
I started to pray a forgotten, muddied prayer.
The water ran.
And the tears fell.
I did not fully understand in that moment where the tears came from because I hadn’t cried in months. My skin burned, eyes ached, and my heart beat quickened until I nearly passed out. It was a moment when I was fully connected to the human race and it had been a long time since that happened to me.
I could not wait to dull the pain and disconnect myself once again…
I am sure since the beginning of that heavy trial for America, her people, and the rest of the planet as a whole; I am not alone when I cringed each and every time a bomb dropped and continued to drop around the globe as the storm raged on.
Every time reports came home of more soldiers being killed in action, I shed tears and said a prayer.
Day to day.
Year to year.
We persevered.
We carried on…
As I watched and prayed from my sideline seat, more of our ground zero responders were found and families were left without, knowing the heroes they lost had so valiantly given the ultimate sacrifice for their fellow men and women. I can only imagine that as much as that may have helped as time passed in the grieving process, in the initial moments I found it would be small consolation when I put myself even relatively in their shoes.
From that moment on, the country and her allies united in a single minded purpose to make things right again. To let the world know that such things do not happen and the men and women who serve as our direct line back to a safety, security from terror continued to make the ultimate sacrifice for what has now been ten years.
I am very proud of what they did and what they do for us.
I shall never forget.
I am proud to call myself an American and equally proud to call myself a Canadian because in the time of need, our men and women joined the struggle without hesitation and went across the globe together to send the message; we are united, we shall prevail.
We did not just fight a war with no regard; our soldiers, our aid workers, and our people spent money, time, blood, sweat, and tears helping the best we could in those countries while we searched and found the men responsible for the despicable actions of that day ten years ago.
And we still give to this day.
Watching and hearing the unity this past Sunday reminded me of something I tend to forget; we are all united in our pain, struggle through and memory of these events as well as those daily events we experience.
Perhaps now we can become united in building a community where such actions are so deplorable by every human being they are no longer necessary or tolerated by anyone.
I know how unlikely that is because there will always be inequity of income and status to some degree and with that will come instability of regions and groups, but I can pray…
And my prayers and hopes are simple; may we find peace and know love.
May we hold our heads and hearts high, but hold our soldiers even higher.
May we never forget where we came from as a community nor who brought us through the storm with no thought of self-preservation.
With all of this I shall do my best to contribute love, tolerance, peace, acceptance, and understanding into the world around me, wherever I might be placed by God. I know it is not possible for perfection, but with certain facts in mind, it is possible for me to do better today than the last.
By the Grace of God we go,
David W. Lewry