There was something amiss in our society that was hard to grasp.
In my last 43 years on this planet, I've seen many changes - some large and some not so. The one change that seems to have been the most subtle is how we view others around us. In my youth, growing up in the near North side of Chicago, there was a small town community feel that I accepted as the norm. Many different ethnic groups lived in the area by J.G. Blaine Elementary.
The families were all Americans. Not Afro-, Euro-, Asian-, or any of the other hyphenated groups that seem to have spawned in the post Vietnam, pre-Desert Storm Era. Americans.
Our grocer, who lived in the apartment above his shop, was Italian by heritage but we called him Nick. The family who ran the candy store across the street from the school were Polish. With blond hair. And big warm smiles. The kid who lived up the street that first inspired me to play the guitar was German. But me and my sisters just called him Paulie. For this is who we were in those turbulent times of the late sixties. Before the hyphens that divide, everyone was just a person - with little or no need to have any other modifier to describe them. That might have just been my youthful viewpoint, but I know to this day that it is the correct view to have of those around us. We had our own individual identities from our parent's parent's. But we shared something thicker than blood - which to this day can still be found in small towns like the one where I raise my family.
We are Americans.
The community I live in is no grand metropolis. A few short years ago, there was a major Air Force training base here. Today, as the village recovers from its closure, we have more military retirees than towns 10 times our size.
One thing that unites this community is the fact that we still believe in the freedoms that were won in battles and wars fought long ago. We never stopped flying the Stars and Stripes year-round. Our schoolchildren said the pledge before 9-11-01. These things are not just facade and eye-candy for the people who visit the local Octave Chanute Air Museum.
These are a display of the things we cherish. Faith - Love - Hope.
I could wax poetic using many grand terms to describe these attributes. These will work.
The events of 9-11 have caused me to take a closer look at the things that are important -ones we cherish as individuals as well as those that are central to who we are as a people. Shortly after the attacks on NY and DC, a good friend asked me how was I doing. I thought a moment - he wasn't asking in the polite sort of way. I said, "Better". The more I thought about this short response, the more I realized that I was indeed getting better. Better at seeing the things that are important to me. Treating the people I work with as my friends. Hugging my three children and wife more frequently. Being less demanding of others when they refuse to see things my way. I'm doing better. More importantly, we - as a nation - are doing better.
There's something inside of me that refuses to go back to the world we had back in August. I've noticed some of the things that I remember from my grade school days returning to the public stage. Care and true compassion for our neighbors and friends. Real exchanges frrom the people I encounter at the Mall or Post Office.
Have I changed?
Yes.
Has the world around me changed?
Yes, and the change is real - yet it has a quality of fantasy or illusion.
Maybe just a fog.
The change will stay with us as long as we treat others with the same consideration we expect from them. You ask "what can I do?" Hard to say. What were you doing before America woke up from her slumber? What were your priorities? Are they the same today? If not, what must you do to keep the things that are important foremost of your life?
"Stay strong", "Believe in yourself".
"Know Thyself" is a phrase I had heard quite often while I was a child. Do you know yourself? The fact that we now realize where we were is the first step in continuing the healing that has been the real result of 9-11.
In years past, there were many who gave their lives in wars and conflicts around the world.
Now we have thousands more who deserve our honor.
Unknown by the world but mourned by their families, they were called to sacrifice their lives to reawakening our great national spirit. In the same way we honor the firefighters and rescue teams who knowingly entered harms way, the people who were busy living the American dream and perished - sons and daughters - fathers and mothers - aunts and uncles - brothers and sisters - must be remembered as the first to perish in our countries newest conflict.
Their sacrifice allowed the great experiment in representative government another chance. The second chance that we've got to take.
So, how are you today?
