Whenever I'm part of a group and the discussion turns to the events of September 11th, 2001, I've tried to pay particular attention to what people remember from that day. Most people remember where they were and what they were doing when they first heard the news, much like my generation recalls where we were when President Kennedy was shot. Some folks were watching the television when the second plane struck the World Trade Center. Others saw the videotape afterward. Most remember the gut-wrenching images of the buildings collapsing, people running, dust and falling debris filling the air, and the looks of shock and horror that crossed the faces of everybody they knew. It was one of those days we'll never forget, because the trauma of that tragic event will be forever seared in our psyche.
Strangely, over the past ten years, nobody I've queried about their most vivid memory of 9/11 has ever mentioned the one scene that haunts me more than all others from that day – a newsreel segment of thousands of Palestinians filling the streets in Gaza. They were smiling, singing and gleefully celebrating the horrific deaths of three thousand people they never even knew. Those three thousand innocent people, with friends, families and loved ones who would never again have the benefit and warmth of their company, met with a tragic end…and thousands of miles away, people were dancing in the streets with joy at their loss. That's what I remember most about September 11th.
I suspect that years from now, assuming I live that long, people will ask me what I recall from May 2nd, 2011, the day Osama bin Laden – the terrorist mastermind of 9/11 – was shot and killed by U.S. Navy Seals. And the one thing I'll remember more than anything, were the people in the streets, smiling, singing and gleefully celebrating the death of an evil, evil man thousands of miles away.
All day yesterday, my thoughts kept returning to the Amish community at Nickel Mines in Pennsylvania. In 2006, Charles Roberts, a deranged man, entered the community's one-room schoolhouse and shot ten girls, killing five, before committing suicide. The Amish in that community banded together in their grief, and showed their utmost compassion by reaching out to the family of Mr. Roberts, who the Amish also recognized were hurt by the tragedy. There was no singing and dancing in the streets in Nickel Mines over Charles Robert's death; just the recognition that a great loss was suffered by all. That's what I took from September 11th. That's what I'll take from May 2nd too!
God bless the entire world. Lord knows we all need it.
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