That Day 20 Years Ago
Sep. 11th, 2021 03:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thisnewdayOf all the conversations that I had with my daughter, in the days just after 9/11, there's one that has stayed with me, word for word, over the past twenty years.
None of our conversations were very long, even once the phone traffic had slowed enough that we could get through consistently and without long delays.
Because this was, above all, a time for actions, not words, and for energy to be spent on things other than feelings that could only get in the way of a job still needing to be done.
And so, I just said, "How're you doing?"
There was a pause, and then she said, "They're bringing in the cadaver dogs."
Then, another pause as she gathered herself and let the meaning of her words sink in.
After that, she continued, as if to clarify, "They're pulling out the search and rescue dogs and we'll be coming home."
I've thought about this, from time to time, about what she'd said and about what she and her bosses and co-workers from the Central Animal Hospital had done, in the days just after 9/11.
About loading their cars with veterinary supplies and driving towards the massive, still-smoking ruins in the heart of the city.
About setting up their respite station where wounds could be dressed, hydration issues managed, and safety gear fashioned.
Where animals trained to find the living could be helped to refocus and endure until it became certain that there were no more of the living to be found.
I thought about this a few months after I'd gone to work at the Wyndham Hotel just off the State Thruway from which, following 9/11, rescue equipment and personnel had poured into New York City.
It had been decided that the hotel would sponsor a Red Cross response team made up of volunteers from the hotel staff. And remembering what my daughter had said--about the literally thousands of willing but unqualified volunteers who had come to New York City but were refused access to the 9/11 site--I was among those at the hotel who volunteered and were ultimately trained and certified.
(Later, in a meeting at which we were asked to describe our reasons for volunteering, I credited my daughter as the inspiration for my decision and also cited her statement that her ability to serve, in this national emergency, had been predicated solely on her prior training and experience.)
Anyway, that's my 9/11 story. Obligatory though it's telling, or retelling, may have been on this day, I do so in honor of those who served and in memory of the nation whose people were, on that day, able to put aside their differences, their purely personal interests, and unite in common cause for the good of all.
I say "in memory of the nation" because, following the toxic example of a previous President, we are in the midst of showing ourselves incapable of answering a similar call in the face of a present emergency.
And it's my sad expectation that, as this situation predictably worsens, what we once were, what we once stood for, what we had once hoped to pass on to our children and grandchildren, will very much resemble the smoking ruin which my daughter and her colleagues drove towards on that day 20 years ago.
Sadly, our democracy needs very much more than the literal "shots in the arm" now being advocated. It needs an as yet undiscovered vaccine against the utter selfishness and narcissism which, through a shameful failure in national leadership, we've come to erroneously believe was the legacy and gift of our founding fathers.
May God help America. May God help us all...
LPK
Dreamwidth
9.11.2021
None of our conversations were very long, even once the phone traffic had slowed enough that we could get through consistently and without long delays.
Because this was, above all, a time for actions, not words, and for energy to be spent on things other than feelings that could only get in the way of a job still needing to be done.
And so, I just said, "How're you doing?"
There was a pause, and then she said, "They're bringing in the cadaver dogs."
Then, another pause as she gathered herself and let the meaning of her words sink in.
After that, she continued, as if to clarify, "They're pulling out the search and rescue dogs and we'll be coming home."
I've thought about this, from time to time, about what she'd said and about what she and her bosses and co-workers from the Central Animal Hospital had done, in the days just after 9/11.
About loading their cars with veterinary supplies and driving towards the massive, still-smoking ruins in the heart of the city.
About setting up their respite station where wounds could be dressed, hydration issues managed, and safety gear fashioned.
Where animals trained to find the living could be helped to refocus and endure until it became certain that there were no more of the living to be found.
I thought about this a few months after I'd gone to work at the Wyndham Hotel just off the State Thruway from which, following 9/11, rescue equipment and personnel had poured into New York City.
It had been decided that the hotel would sponsor a Red Cross response team made up of volunteers from the hotel staff. And remembering what my daughter had said--about the literally thousands of willing but unqualified volunteers who had come to New York City but were refused access to the 9/11 site--I was among those at the hotel who volunteered and were ultimately trained and certified.
(Later, in a meeting at which we were asked to describe our reasons for volunteering, I credited my daughter as the inspiration for my decision and also cited her statement that her ability to serve, in this national emergency, had been predicated solely on her prior training and experience.)
Anyway, that's my 9/11 story. Obligatory though it's telling, or retelling, may have been on this day, I do so in honor of those who served and in memory of the nation whose people were, on that day, able to put aside their differences, their purely personal interests, and unite in common cause for the good of all.
I say "in memory of the nation" because, following the toxic example of a previous President, we are in the midst of showing ourselves incapable of answering a similar call in the face of a present emergency.
And it's my sad expectation that, as this situation predictably worsens, what we once were, what we once stood for, what we had once hoped to pass on to our children and grandchildren, will very much resemble the smoking ruin which my daughter and her colleagues drove towards on that day 20 years ago.
Sadly, our democracy needs very much more than the literal "shots in the arm" now being advocated. It needs an as yet undiscovered vaccine against the utter selfishness and narcissism which, through a shameful failure in national leadership, we've come to erroneously believe was the legacy and gift of our founding fathers.
May God help America. May God help us all...
LPK
Dreamwidth
9.11.2021
no subject
Date: 2021-09-14 10:10 am (UTC)It remains an honour to read it.