One Year Later, Five Years On

The anniversaries.

Anniversaries of destruction, of life never being the same, of the unspeakable, the unbelievable.

I live in a country of incredible heroism. A sig line on a message board read "We used to think that art was the highest form of human expression. We now know that the highest form of human expression is to run into a burning building to get other people out." I remember the heroes of FDNY, NYPD, Port Authority officers, and the ordinary citizens who found the strength and selflessness in themselves. They looked past their need and did what seems incredible to us, but maybe to them, seemed to be the only path that they could take. I honor the passengers of flight 93, the people who stayed behind to help the injured and died in the process, those that refused to wait for "official" help and jumped into a boat and started pulling people out of houses in New Orleans. Now those that survived the rescue and recovery in New York are paying a high price with not only the mental scars but the physical scars, a result of breathing that dust choked air- and what help are they being given? Very little. How long before those that waded through the filthy waters of New Orleans come down sick?

Will we ever get used to seeing the film of floating bodies or the small figures waving out of broken windows in the towers? My body still jolts when I see the footage of the planes. I still well up with sorrow and anger looking at the dead at the Convention Center.

I now live in a country where safety is measured by how long it has been since the last attack. It makes me think that there should be a sign (like ones you see next to factories) next to the Statue of Liberty that says "XXX Days Without An Incident."

But am I safer now? Honestly, I don't know. Who should I fear more- al Queda or those that would limit my personal freedom? I will gladly give up the right to carry liquids on a plane yet resent have my cell phone records monitored.

I live in a country where as much as we thought differently, race and class does matter. If Palm Springs or Beverly Hills flooded, how long would it have taken FEMA to arrive? The Canadian Mounted Police arrived to help before our government?!

I live in a country where five years ago the world stood with us in grief and one year ago where it offered help (and in many cases had it rejected).

I live in a country where we are labeled red/blue, rich/poor. Are we really that divided or does it just serve the needs of those in power and those seeking it?

I live in a country where dissent is termed treason. No, it is the act of a true patriot.

So, one year later and five years on what advice can I give my children who must live in this new world? What have I learned? The best I can is this, "Help all that need you. No one has ever looked back with regret for helping, only for passing someone by. Stand up for what you believe in- even it's not the popular thought. Do that, and you can face yourself."

May I be able to take my own advice,

Peace,

Taffy