Skip to main content

God Bless the U.S.A.



No words will ever be right to comment about today,
today seventeen years ago.

But to say nothing is a worse crime.

I heard worried talk amongst the grownups at the bus stop.
I saw billowing smoke gasping out of a skyscraper on a tiny television box in my fourth grade classroom.
I felt the stars and stripes,
and I wept, I wept, I wept.

I wrote the following in my journal on September 11th, 2001 (forgive spelling and accuracy details, this is the event as perceived by my nine year old self):

"Today terrorism has struck America. This very day, in New York and Washington D.C. It is the most terrify in news I have ever heard in my lifetime. Planes crashed into the Pentigon that crushed it to peices, Fires burnd in New York. 200 firefiters killed. Thousands of people, dead. Some sick, some living. this day all the lives of the United States were efected. The presidant, George W. Bush said that some of us were to go to war to fight, int eh Airforce, Army, Navy and Marines. I am woried. Will our Army win? Will I be ruled by a king in a few years? This has never happened to the United States through all of its History. This has changed my life forever."

Two days later, on September 13th:

"At school yesterday, or the day before, Mr. Martin (our principal) On the intercom put on a song, called, 'God bless the U.S.A.' The song goes something like this.
'I'm proud to be an American, at least I know I'm free. And I won't forget the men who died, to give that right to me.'
It has more to the song but I can't remember the rest.
I felt as though I felt comforted a little with the words and the tune came to me. It felt as though that song was ment for me to hear. For after all I LOVE America. America is WONDERFUL."

God Bless the U.S.A.
Our country is not perfect, and our history is not without it's flaws.
But the core of American striving, that I can understand, is liberty, equality, and opportunity--values I celebrate.
And for every human soul who has suffered or died at the hands of terrorists of any kind (and for every human soul who has battled against it), I weep with you, and I plead alongside you for a world of peace and justice free from cares and sorrows.
God Bless the U.S.A.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Problem with Chick Flicks.

I really, really, really enjoy a select few movies that I willingly watch over and over again. Pride and Prejudice is one of them. You see, Elizabeth's defense of her family, her sense of self respect, her ability to admit that she was wrong and to appreciate Darcy despite all his quirks, and quizzical brow-ness... it's marvelous. My husband doesn't share the sentiment, could you tell? ... and that's okay. There's rare a chick flick I enjoy near as much as I enjoy Pride and Prejudice or A Walk To Remember , and I wanted to explain why. You see, there's more than just a few problems with (many, not all) chick flicks:  (and if you have a chick flick that escapes many of these pitfalls then please oh please leave it's title in the comment section!) The heroine (or suitor) is less than honorable. I have a hard time rooting for a girl to get a gentleman when she's spending her time being scandalously loose with other men ( #thenotebook) . An

A Year and 10 Days Ago

Dear Friends, Family, Acquaintances, and you lovely random passerby of the Blogosphere-- A year and 10 days ago I set out on a journey to write a blog post a day, for two months straight. I did that successfully, and then decided to extend my challenge to a one-year challenge. My report? I wrote 317 blog posts in a 365-day period. And I think that's pretty rad. A few reflections on this experience: Firstly, I started this blog not just because I love writing, but because I needed help. I was suffering from some intense postpartum anxiety, but I didn't know that's what it was at the time. Every moment of every day I felt like I was under severe stress and pressure, even when there were no evident triggers for such. The feeling in my gut on an almost constant basis felt like the queasy stomach, racing heartbeat, and unsettled mind that greeted me before every math test and job interview I've had growing up. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know how

the grouch

he came home to the grouch. normally silly and sass, she was snippy and sour in lieu of laughter, sarcasm instead of sweetness... a lemon-tart  BONAFIDE GRUMP . He kissed her anyways. He held her anyways. He did the dishes anyways, and cheered up the screamy baby and cheered up the house. He melted the iceblock that had molded over her heart over the frustrations of the day because she allowed the demons of disaster to chill her joy. He melted her, all over again, he melted that grouch. That...that is true love. And that's just one reason I love 'im.