United We Stand

from our neighborhood's
20th Commemoration of 9/11

This past Saturday I attended a neighborhood gathering to commemorate the 20^th anniversary since 9/11. It’s particularly poignant this year because of the resounding defeat Biden and team have thrown us into in Afghanistan.

We said we would never forget. And we haven’t. But the occupier of the White House has forgotten, and has shamed us all.

There was a purpose for going into Afghanistan. The terrorist-supporting Taliban government had aided and abetted Osama bin Laden and terrorist organization to recruit, train, and hide out, so they could wreak havoc on the US and the world. We had a just cause. And we fulfilled it. That mission was clear.

As happens in such cases, the bad guys hide out in caves and over the border, where they could get safe haven, only to return once the forces withdraw. That meant, if we were to prevent them from retaking power, we had to stay and help the local people stand up against them.

The least hint of giving up that support has led to increased power for the Taliban. The mission hadn’t actually morphed, but the way it was framed had. Supposedly we were no longer protecting our interests by tamping down terrorism overseas—rather than facing the terrorists on our own shores; now we were “nation building.” Some of that is true. We had to build up a government in Afghanistan to prevent a vacuum that the Taliban would return to fill. And after 20 years, and a media that wouldn’t frame it the way our soldiers understood their mission, the US in general no longer had an appetite for maintaining our presence there, even though they've been maintaining the peace much longer in Korea and Germany.

President Trump keyed into that anti-nation-building sentiment. And I'm not sure that was wrong. But his willingness—along with the willingness of his opponents—to leave was heard loudly, as a rallying cry, by our enemies. And his predecessors blithely pulled out without any normal consideration for how to do that without causing wreck and ruin.

The world is messy. It’s particularly messy in recent times. More so in recent months.

Todd Beamer, on flight 93
image from here

At the event on Saturday, we had a color guard, from a nearby Scout troop, present the colors and lead us in the pledges (in Texas we do the US pledge, and then the Texas pledge; I don’t know if any other state has one of their own). I talked with the scoutmaster afterward. It had been my husband who recruited them to do it. His wasn’t the only troop to offer, but his was the first. He was surprised that every troop within miles wasn’t jumping at the chance. He made sure his boys understood how important this event was. None of them had been born when it happened, so to them it’s like marking the Pearl Harbor attack for most of the rest of us. It’s not ancient history, but it’s before our time. So these young people need to be taught, and shown, what this day has meant.

There were a great many things marking this day. One was the transcript of the 911 call from Todd Beamer, a passenger on flight 93 over Pennsylvania, who acted heroically that day. Several friends shared it. This shows who Americans really are, and who we honor.

At our little neighborhood gathering, I think we did the quintessential American thing. We got together outside, on a beautiful sunny day in the shade of trees, honored the flag, honored the fallen, and then talked about what we can do together to make our community better. We had a number of school board candidates there, where we could get to know them better. I’ll have more on that another day. But this is the essence of self-government, to get involved at the local level. It gives me some hope that our efforts to maintain freedom may be fruitful.

We had a speech about the day. It’s short, and was seen only by our gathering, so I thought I’d share it here. It’s by our freshman state representative, Lacey Hull, who says basically what needed to be said, ending with this:

On September 11th, we lost so much. It was a tragedy that struck the heart of our nation. But it reminded us that we have a heart. That e pluribus unum isn’t just a motto; it’s one of our fundamental values, that out of many, we are one—one nation under God. May God bless America and each and every American. And may we never forget.

 

She’s right. I remember the unity we felt, as Americans—and along with friends of America around the world—in the days after 9/11. Criticism of America, already rampant even two decades ago, held its peace for at least a few months while we mourned and held one another up. I miss that unity.

As we watch, in horror, at the administration-caused catastrophe still ongoing in Afghanistan, including for American citizens, and for many who totally supported us these past decades, it’s hard to be hopeful about a future of freedom, prosperity, and civilization. We have leaders who want tyranny, poverty, and savagery, as difficult as it is to comprehend that. 

I know in the end that goodness wins; I’ve read the ending of the book. But I don’t know what we all need to go through between now and that ending.

Sometimes I write in order to organize my thoughts, to know exactly what it is I think. Other times I have to let ideas simmer for a while. I’m thinking about how to be joyful during catastrophic times. One idea is to keep a focus on what to be thankful for, and we still have a lot of that. Another focus is how much God is with us during difficult times.

Back in earlier days, when I had small children, and I was struggling with health issues that made daily life difficult, I remember praying that I could take joy in my children. The health issues continued for a very long time, but the joy in my children filled me. I took delight in the blessing of having those children and watching them grow.

So I know that, if I pray now for joy in these sad times, when our way of life is hanging by a thread, it’s a worthy thing to ask for and will be granted. But I don’t yet know what the answer will look like.

In the meantime, may those of us who love liberty and our constitutional republic hold together in unity, and invite all to unite with us in loving freedom, prosperity, and civilization.

E Pluribus Unum

Out of many, one. 

That’s what our national motto means. And it describes the sense we felt on this day 18 years ago.

The unthinkable had happened. To some specific 3000 people, and to others nearby, and more still who were near and dear to all those lost and affected. And we felt that it had happened to all of us.

On the day after, we felt that we were one.

We weren’t divided by political party, ethnic heritage, sex, or race. We were all one.

Paul Bettencourt, my Texas State Senator, posted a photo from the weekend after 9/11/01. He attended an Aggie football game (Texas A&M University), and the people in the stadium were dressed in red, white, and blue, according to which tier of the stadium they were in. That must have included fans from both teams, because it’s the whole stadium. We were together, then, as one.

Aggie Stadium (Kyle Field), the weekend after 9/11/01
photo from Senator Paul Bettencourt's Facebook page 9/11/2019

I don’t ever want to see another 9/11. That was a life changing moment, the way Pearl Harbor was for my dad’s generation. But the combined sense of mission and oneness is something Americans tend to show after such an event.

Here in Houston we recognize something: when God wants to unify the people of the Gulf Coast, he sends hurricanes and floods. Katrina. Rita. Ike. Harvey. (That’s not a complete list.) At these times, regular people face the challenge and step up to help. The desire to care for one another overrides everything else. We don’t worry about religion, ethnicity, language, race. We just see each other as people in need and people who are there to help those in need.

In our country today, the sense of division is at dangerous levels. I don’t say it’s the worst ever, because we’ve had a civil war. But the divisions cut pretty deep. You can’t compromise with people who want to wield power over you—to deprive you of your religious beliefs, your desire to protect your life, liberty, and property. There’s only standing up against such tyrants. That’s true even of would-be tyrants among us.

I saw this several times on Facebook this week.
I don't know the original source, but I agree.

But there are people who are not meaning to be tyrants, but are simply misinformed, giving in to emotional string-pulling, and a mix of fear and covetousness. Those people can be one with us if they tune out the controlling propaganda and come to see us as people.

I’d like to see that happen organically, by choice. I don’t want some catastrophe to fall upon any of us just to get our attention and force us to see that caring for one another is paramount. But I do know that, in the past, catastrophe has resulted in greater unity. And if God is giving us time to reunite by natural choice and we fail to take the opportunity, allowing a disaster to bring about healing is not out of the realm of possibility. Because that unity is important to the Father of us all.

Recently in our church reading assignment, we covered Paul’s first letter to the saints in Corinth. In chapter 12, he uses the image of the body to represent the saints together in a body—made up of many members, but all important, all able to do their particular assignments. It comes after a section talking about various gifts we all have; no one has them all, so we benefit one another by being together. Here are a few of these verses:

12 For as the body is one, and hath many members, and all the members of that one body, being many, are one body: so also is Christ….

14 For the body is not one member, but many.

15 If the foot shall say, Because I am not the hand, I am not of the body; is it therefore not of the body?

16 And if the ear shall say, Because I am not the eye, I am not of the body; is it therefore not of the body?

17 If the whole body were an eye, where were the hearing? If the whole were hearing, where were the smelling?...

25 That there should be no schism in the body; but that the members should have the same care one for another.

26 And whether one member suffer, all the members suffer with it; or one member be honoured, all the members rejoice with it.

We suffer together when we must. Wouldn’t we rather rejoice together?

President John F. Kennedy saying "Ich bin ein Berliner."
screenshot from here

There was a time when JFK stood at the Berlin Wall and said, “Ich bin ein Berliner,” meaning that, on that day, he (and we Americans whom he represented) stood in solidarity with the free people of Berlin—which should have included them all—because we stood with the good, the right: the free.

After 9/11, not only were all Americans proudly saying, “I am an American!” but much of the world was saying that with us.

I wish the unity had lasted longer. I wish it had not so badly deteriorated this past decade. I wish for healing into unity by choice, rather than by another life-changing tragedy. I want us to feel the caring for one another that we felt on 9/12/2001—without the calamity that led to it.

E pluribus unum.