Sanna's Bag

“I never seem to have what I need when I need it. I’m going to make a belt-bag that’s bigger on the inside than on the outside, and just carry everything with me.”

Friday, September 11, 2009

Remember

I'm afraid there's going to be a lot of sad and angry memories around this day. I want to focus on the incredible bravery of the people who helped, and the way we all pulled together. Over here on the left coast, the Red Cross was SWAMPED with blood donors. Firemen and policemen came in from retirement, sick leave, disability leave and vacation so their more able-bodied buddies could fly to New York and help out. A local travel agent organized a special, "Oregon loves NY" trip when the airways re-opened, to prove it was safe to fly, and to bring tourists to the city that relies so much on tourism. Every person on that flight were worried that they might not survive, but they spent time and money and courage to make life more normal in NY.

And remember those first few days when there were no commercial flights? People joined together with total strangers, rented cars and RVs, and drove cross-country to make important meetings, weddings, occasions.

The Air Guard base here in Portland was one of the few places where flights were coming and going on a regular basis. When we heard those jets overhead, we were comforted and proud. Those were OUR boys taking care of us!

There are places in the world where bombings and terrorism is a fact of daily life. I hope we never take our safety for granted.

Do you have a good memory around 9/11? A specific act of courage or kindness or pride? I'd love to hear it.

8 Comments:

  • At 9:21 PM , Blogger Amy Lane said...

    Big T-- he was eight years old and he insisted on lighting a candle on the corner.

     
  • At 12:03 AM , Anonymous tlbwest said...

    Good things? I remember going down to my parish church - people began to come in throughout the morning to talk and pray.
    The organ was being repaired and Fred (our organ technician) had put the John Rutter Requiem on his tape player (Portlanders will remember this was performed at the memorial service for the OES students and teachers who died on Mt. Hood in the late 1980s.)
    By noon, a dozen or so folks had arrived so we read noon prayer. Then we planned a service for the coming Friday evening and began to publicize it. One person who walked into that service, never having been before, is now on the vestry...
    Less positively I remember worrying about D. who was just beginning freshman year of college on the east coast - being glad it was Hampshire (Amherst, Mass.) instead of Sarah Lawrence, the other school we considered( 30 min. from downtown Manhattan). Didn't know there was a SAC base as few miles away - no air silence there. Many students were from the NY or Boston areas; several lost parents. The father of a girl in D's dorm took the Logan flight to LA weekly - just happened to miss it that morning.
    A dear friend in Conn., a nurse, went into the city to volunteer.

     
  • At 12:24 AM , Anonymous tlbwest said...

    I want to add two other memories, ones I share with thousands -
    the heroic witnes of Fr. Mychal Judge, OFM - the Franciscan priest who as chaplain to the firefighters was the first official death - as I understand it he entered the building to give last rites. Fr. Mychal was gay - whatever the church hierarchies say, it is always the faithful who recognize and lift up saints,and many people consider Fr. M. a saint and indeed credit him with healings. I'm certainly willing to ask him to pray for me, for the bravery to respond with compassion even when I am afraid.
    Then there is the story of two of the first-responders - a gay couple - they were seen to embrace and then enter the building. One died - his family informed the survivor he was not welcome at the funeral.
    How can we continue to deny gay and lesbian couples the rights we take for granted? End of rant.

     
  • At 8:26 AM , Blogger KnitTech said...

    I remember putting a lot of phone calls through to the production floor because people were calling to talk to their loved ones at work.

     
  • At 9:22 AM , Blogger Willow said...

    Now I have tears pooling as I remember that day. I was saying goodbye to my daughter after having spent a week with her in Rome, Italy and we had flown across the Atlantic Ocean 36 hours before. I was waiting for my son to arrive to take me to LAX for my flight home to PDX. Three people called within 10 minutes and said, "Um, Mom, I don't think you're going to get home today." I ended up taking the bus up I-5. It was a trip to cherish. People being very helpful, the bus drivers assuring everyone that no one would be left behind, that there would be more busses coming to accomodate the rush of bus travellers. My seatmate was a stranded United flight attendant. We cried together for her co workers.

     
  • At 3:29 PM , Blogger Em said...

    I remember the fear, first. My parents worked in Philadelphia, the major city between New York and DC, right in the heart of the city. I was a sophomore in high school, and I remember the teachers that let us watch the news, and the ones that tried to give us some normalcy. And I remember staring at the TV screen with my parents as soon as we all got home and watching as, time after time, emergency workers went into a dangerous place, a frightening situation, and they saved people. Nobody faltered, nobody saved themselves at the expense of others. I remember watching raw footage of a fireman throwing himself bodily over a civilian as the blast from the second collapse tore through the streets. I remember the sorrow, but I remember the pride as we came together as a united people to help each other. We may be a screwed up country sometimes, but it gives me comfort to remember that, when push comes to shove and there's a true emergency,we take care of one another.

     
  • At 3:29 PM , Blogger Em said...

    I remember the fear, first. My parents worked in Philadelphia, the major city between New York and DC, right in the heart of the city. I was a sophomore in high school, and I remember the teachers that let us watch the news, and the ones that tried to give us some normalcy. And I remember staring at the TV screen with my parents as soon as we all got home and watching as, time after time, emergency workers went into a dangerous place, a frightening situation, and they saved people. Nobody faltered, nobody saved themselves at the expense of others. I remember watching raw footage of a fireman throwing himself bodily over a civilian as the blast from the second collapse tore through the streets. I remember the sorrow, but I remember the pride as we came together as a united people to help each other. We may be a screwed up country sometimes, but it gives me comfort to remember that, when push comes to shove and there's a true emergency,we take care of one another.

     
  • At 3:29 PM , Blogger Kate said...

    The art work and the written prayers of the children at St John the Devine. THey lifted be up. Maybe when I'mnext in NY I'll have the courage to visit the museum. Still too, too upset to visit there.

     

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