God Bless America
As a science fiction writer, a lot of the time, I have to stretch my mind for the most implausible and impossible plot line, and make it reality.
Imagine waking up to your phone ringing. Your college roommate answers it, listens intently, and then whispers "Oh God" as she runs to the tv. As you open your eyes, the first thing you see that day is the building that your uncle works in collapse to the ground.
That's how my day started September 11th, 2001. My grandparents will always remember where they were when Pearl Harbor was hit. My parents will remember where they were when they heard Kennedy was shot. And me? I will always remember the feeling I had in my gut as I frantically questioned whether or not I still had my family.
As a student in Texas, many people would think that I would have been uneffected by a tragedy so far away from the little town that I go to school in. And while it's true that many students here did not have relatives or friends to worry about, I was not one of those students. My mother's sister constantly flies out of Newark Airport, where one of the planes was hijacked. She was in Pittsburg at the time of that plane crash. My mom's cousin, Nick, who I have been close to all of my life, worked in those towers, but had chosen to take the day off of work to see his little daughter off to her first day of preschool. My father lives several blocks from the World Trade Centers, and usually drives right under them at that exact time to go to work everyday. He fortunately was right outside of the city when it happened, because he woke up early that day. And my dad's brother, my uncle? He was in the second tower at the time that the first was hit. As his building was evacuated, he was on the street as the second plane hit. He watched as whole floors of people fell to their deaths. He stood as the most hideous rain imaginable dropped around him.
My family got out safe, but there are thousands of others that did not, and to their survivors I offer my prayers and support through this trying yet unifying time. God is with you, always remember that.
The barbarians will learn what America's all about
By Leonard Pitts Jr.
Syndicated columnist
They pay me to tease shades of meaning from social and cultural issues, to provide words that help make sense of that which troubles the American soul. But in this moment of airless shock when hot tears sting disbelieving eyes, the only thing I can find to say, the only words that seem to fit, must be addressed to the unknown author of this suffering.
You monster. You beast. You unspeakable bastard.
What lesson did you hope to teach us by your coward's attack on our World Trade Center, our Pentagon, us? What was it you hoped we would learn? Whatever it was, please know that you failed.
Did you want us to respect your cause? You just damned your cause.
Did you want to make us fear? You just steeled our resolve.
Did you want to tear us apart? You just brought us together.
Let me tell you about my people. We are a vast and quarrelsome family, a family rent by racial, cultural, political and class division, but a family nonetheless. We're frivolous, yes, capable of expending tremendous emotional energy on pop cultural minutiae, a singer's revealing dress, a ball team's misfortune, a cartoon mouse.
We're wealthy, too, spoiled by the ready availability of trinkets and material goods, and maybe because of that, we walk through life with a certain sense of blithe entitlement. We are fundamentally decent, though
- peace-loving and compassionate. We struggle to know the right thing and to do it. And we are, the overwhelming majority of us, people of faith, believers in a just and loving God.
Some people - you, perhaps - think that any or all of this makes us weak. You're mistaken. We are not weak. Indeed, we are strong in ways that cannot be measured by arsenals.
Yes, we're in pain now. We are in mourning and we are in shock. We're still grappling with the unreality of the awful thing you did, still working to make ourselves understand that this isn't a special effect from some Hollywood blockbuster, isn't the plot development from a Tom Clancy novel.
Both in terms of the awful scope of its ambition and the probable final death toll, your attacks are likely to go down as the worst acts of terrorism in the history of the United States and, indeed, the history of the world. You've bloodied us as we have never been bloodied before.
But there's a gulf of difference between making us bloody and making us fall. This is the lesson Japan was taught to its bitter sorrow the last time anyone hit us this hard, the last time anyone brought us such abrupt and monumental pain. When roused, we are righteous in our outrage, terrible in our force. When provoked by this level of barbarism, we will bear any suffering, pay any cost, go to any length, in the pursuit of justice.
I tell you this without fear of contradiction. I know my people, as you, I think, do not. What I know reassures me. It also causes me to tremble with
dread of the future.
In days to come, there will be recrimination and accusation, fingers pointing to determine whose failure allowed this to happen and what can be done to prevent it from happening again. There will be heightened security, misguided talk of revoking basic freedoms. We'll go forward from this moment sobered, chastened, sad. But determined, too. Unimaginably determined.
You see, there is steel beneath this velvet. That aspect of our character is seldom understood by people who don't know us well. On this day, the family's bickering is put on hold. As Americans we will weep, as
Americans we will mourn, and as Americans, we will rise in defense of all that we cherish.
Still, I keep wondering what it was you hoped to teach us. It occurs to me that maybe you just wanted us to know the depths of your hatred.
If that's the case, consider the message received. And take this message in exchange: You don't know my people. You don't know what we're about. You don't know what you just started.
But you're about to learn.
IS THIS NORMAL?
Four thousand gathered for mid-day prayer in a downtown cathedral. New York City church, filled and emptied six times last Tuesday. The owner of a Manhattan tennis shoe store threw open his doors and gave running shoes to those fleeing the towers. People stood in lines to give blood, in
hospitals to treat the sick, in sanctuaries to pray for the
wounded.
America was different this week. We wept for people we did not know. We sent money to families we've never seen. Talk show hosts read Scriptures, journalists printed prayers. Our focus shifted from fashion hemlines and box scores to orphans and widows and the future of the world.
We were different this week. Republicans stood next to Democrats. Catholics prayed with Jews. Skin color was covered by the ash of burning towers.
This is a different country than it was a week ago.
We're not as self-centered as we were. We're not as self-reliant as we were. Hands are out. Knees are bent. This is not normal. And I have to ask the question, "Do we want to go back to normal?"
Are we being given a glimpse of a new way of life? Are we, as a nation, being reminded that the enemy is not each other and the power is not in ourselves and the future is not in our bank accounts?
Could this unselfish prayerfulness be the way God intended for us to live all along? Maybe this, in his eyes, is the way we are called to live.
And perhaps the best response to this tragedy is to refuse to go back to normal. Perhaps the best response is to follow the example of Tom Burnet. He was a passenger of flight 93. Minutes before the plane crashed in the fields of
Pennsylvania he reached is wife by cell phone. "We're all going to die," he told her, "but there are three of us who are going to do something about it."
We can do something about it as well. We can resolve to care more. We can resolve to pray more. And we can resolve that, God being our helper, we'll never go back to normal again.
-Max Lucado
Wednesday 12 September 2001
I cannot begin this audience without expressing my
profound sorrow at the terrorist attacks which yesterday brought death and destruction to America, causing thousands of victims and injuring countless people.
To the President of the United States and to all
American citizens I express my heartfelt sorrow. In the face of such unspeakable horror we cannot but be deeply disturbed. I add my voice to all the voices raised in these hours to express indignant condemnation, and I strongly reiterate that the ways of violence will never lead to genuine solutions to humanity's problems.
Yesterday was a dark day in the history of humanity,
a terrible affront to human dignity. After receiving the news, I followed with intense concern the developing situation, with heartfelt prayers to the Lord. How is it possible to commit acts of such savage cruelty? The human heart has depths from which schemes of unheard-of ferocity sometimes emerge, capable
of destroying in a moment the normal daily life of a
people. But faith comes to our aid at these times when words seem to fail.
Christ's word is the only one that can give a response to the questions which trouble our spirit. Even if the forces of darkness appear to prevail, those who believe in God know that evil and death do not have
the final say.
Christian hope is based on this truth; at this time
our prayerful trust draws strength from it.
With deeply felt sympathy I address myself to the
beloved people of the United States in this moment of distress and consternation, when the courage of so many men and women of good will is being sorely tested.
In a special way I reach out to the families of the dead and the injured,and assure them of my spiritual closeness. I entrust to the mercy of the Most High the helpless victims of this tragedy, for whom I offered Mass this morning, invoking upon them eternal rest. May God give courage to the survivors; may he sustain the rescue-workers and the many volunteers who are presently making an enormous effort to cope with
such an immense emergency. I ask you, dear brothers and sisters, to join me in prayer for them. Let us beg the Lord that the spiral of hatred and violence will
not prevail. May the Blessed Virgin, Mother of Mercy,
fill the hearts of all with wise thoughts and peaceful intentions.
Today, my heartfelt sympathy is with the American
people, subjected yesterday to inhuman terrorist attacks which have taken the lives of thousands of innocent human beings and caused unspeakable sorrow in
the hearts of all men and women of good will. Yesterday
was indeed a dark day in our history, an appalling offence against peace, a terrible assault against human dignity.
I invite you all to join me in commending the victims of this shocking tragedy to Almighty God' s eternal love. Let us implore his comfort upon the injured, the families involved, all who are doing their utmost to rescue survivors and help those affected. I ask God to grant the American people the strength and courage they need at this time of sorrow and trial. -Pope John Paul II
September 18, 2001
Surviving the 81st Floor of World Trade Tower Two
A testimony of God's hand of protection amidst tragedy
Tuesday, Sept. 11, 2001, began like any other day for Bethel Assembly of
God deacon and Sunday school superintendent Stanley Praimnath of Elmont,
Long Island. He got up early, took a shower, prayed, got ready and
headed for work. The drive was uneventful. The train ride was the same.
Yet, this day he would see the hand of God spare his life.
"For some particular reason, I gave the Lord a little extra of myself
that morning [during prayer]," Stanley said. "I said, 'Lord, cover me
and all my loved ones under your precious blood.' And even though I said
that and believed it, I said it over and over and over."
When Stanley arrived at World Trade Center Tower Two, he took the
elevator up to his office on the 81st floor. "I work for the Fuji Bank
Limited," he said. "I'm an assistant vice president in the loans
operations department. The company is located on the 79th through 82nd
floors."
Stanley greeted Delise, a woman who had arrived before him. After
talking briefly, he headed over to his desk and picked up his phone to
retrieve his messages.
"As I'm standing there retrieving my messages, I'm looking out at the
next building, One World Trade, and I saw fire falling through from the
roof," Stanley said. "Now, this entire building is surrounded by glass,
and you can stand up and from there you can see all the buildings,
planes and everything flying at the same altitude."
As Stanley saw "fire balls" coming down, his first reaction was to think
of his boss who works in that building. He decided to try to call him to
see if he was OK. "I'm dialing his number, and getting no response. So,
I say to Delise, the temp, 'Go, go, go -- let's get out.'"
Delise and Stanley got on the elevator and went down to the 78th floor.
Some other people were there. The company's president, the CEO, the
human resources director and two other men joined the group and headed
down to the concourse level of Two World Trade Center.
If they had continued on and exited the building, all of their lives
would have been spared. As it was, that's not the way it happened.
"As soon as we reached the concourse level, the security guard stopped
us and said, 'Where are you going?' Stanley explained about seeing the
fire in Tower One. According to Stanley, the guard said, "Oh, that was
just an accident. Two World Trade is secured. Go back to your office."
That turned out to be fatal advice -- aside from Stanley, Delise was the
only one of that group to survive.
"We were joking, and I told [Human Resources Director] Brian Thompson,
'This is a good time to think of relocating this building -- it's not
safe anymore.'" Stanley headed back to his office, but before he got
there, he told Delise, that with the events of the day, she should go
home and relax.
Thompson went to the 82nd floor, the president and CEO went to the 79th
floor and Stanley got out on the 81st floor. When Stanley got to his
office, his phone was ringing. "It was someone from Chicago calling to
find out if I'm watching the news," he said. He told the caller
everything "was fine."
But everything wasn't fine -- far from it. As Stanley was talking, he
looked up and saw United Air Lines Flight 175 heading straight for him.
"All I can see is this big gray plane, with red letters on the wing and
on the tail, bearing down on me," said Stanley. "But this thing is
happening in slow motion. The plane appeared to be like 100 yards away,
I said 'Lord, you take control, I can't help myself here.' "
Stanley then dove under his desk. "My Testament [Bible] was on top of my
desk," explained Stanley. "I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the
Lord was going to take care of me once I got there." As he curled into a
fetal position under his desk, the plane tore into the side of the
building and exploded.
Miraculously, Stanley was unhurt. However, he could see a flaming wing
of the plane in the doorway of his department. He knew he needed to get
out of his office and the building fast. But, he was trapped under
debris up to his shoulders.
"Lord, you take control, this is your problem now," he recalled praying.
"I don't know where I got this power from, but the good Lord, He gave me
so much power and strength in my body that I was able to shake
everything off. I felt like I was the strongest man alive."
All the while, Stanley was asking the Lord to spare his life. "I'm
crying and I'm praying, 'Lord, I have things to do. I want to see my
family, Lord, help me through.'"
Stanley's office resembled a battle zone -- walls flattened into dusty
heaps, office equipment strewn violently, flames flickering about and
rubble everywhere.
"Everything I'm trying to climb on [to get out] is collapsing and I'm
going down," he said. "I'm getting cuts and bruises, but I'm saying,
'Lord, I have to go home to my loved ones, I have to make it, You have
to help me.' "
Suddenly Stanley saw the light of a flashlight. For a moment, it stunned
him. "What were the chances of someone bringing a flashlight to this
floor?" he thought. "My first gut reaction was, 'This is my guardian
angel -- my Lord sent somebody to save me!' "
Stanley began screaming, "I see the light, I see the light." But after
clawing his way through the debris, he realized that he couldn't get out
- all the exits were blocked and his "guardian angel" couldn't get to
him--a wall was between him and the staircase. "He can't get to me and I
can't get to him, and by this time I can't breathe," Stanley said. "I
don't know if it was sulfur or what [burning jet fuel, perhaps], but I
can smell this thing. I got down on my knees and said, "Lord, you've got
to help me. You've brought me this far, help me to get to the
staircase."
But then Stanley did something surprising. While praying on his knees,
he called out to the man behind the wall, "There's one thing I got to
know, do you know Jesus?" The man replied he went to church every
Sunday. Then they prayed together to enable them to break through the
wall.
"I got up, and I felt as if a power came over me," said Stanley. "I felt
goose bumps all over my body and I'm trembling, and I said to the wall,
'You're going to be no match for me and my Lord.' " Moments later, he
punched his way through the wall and, with the help of the man on the
other side, was able to squirm his way through the hole in the wall.
"The guy held me and embraced me and he gave me a kiss and he said,
'From today, you're my brother for life.' "
But the danger wasn't over. The man on the other side of the wall, who
introduced himself as Brian, was an older man and they still had 81
floors to walk down, with the building on fire and, unknown to them, in
danger of collapse. "We hobbled our way down, and at every floor we
stopped to see if anybody was there, but nobody was, except a man was on
the floor, and his back was gone, and he was covered in blood."
Stanley asked to be allowed to carry the man out, but a security guard
told him it would be better to send somebody up. When they finally made
it down to the concourse, only firefighters were there. "They were
saying, 'Run! Run! Run!', they were telling us to run out, but they were
not concerned about themselves," he said.
Stanley and Brian would have run from the building, but now the
concourse was surrounded with fire. Wetting themselves under the
building's sprinkler system, they held hands and ran through the flames
to safety at Trinity Church, about two blocks away. "I wanted to go to
the church to thank God," Stanley explained, "As soon as I held onto the
gate of that church, the building [World Trade Center Tower Two]
collapsed."
Stanley and Brian made their way safely out of the danger area. Before
they parted, Stanley gave his business card to Brian in hopes of contact
at a later time, and said, "If I don't see you, I'll see you in heaven."
Cut and bloodied, with clothes tattered and wearing a borrowed shirt,
Stanley finally made it home hours later to his wife, Jennifer, and his
two girls, Stephanie, 8, and Caitlin, 4. "I held my wife and my two
children and we cried," said Stanley. After thanking God for sparing his
life, Stanley told God whatever he did, it will always be for His glory.
"I'm so sore, but every waking moment, I say 'Lord, had you not been in
control, I would not have made it.'
"For some divine reason, I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the
good Lord's mighty hand turned the plane a fraction from where I was
standing," said Stanley. "Because when it crash-landed, it was just 20
feet from me. I don't care who would rationalize -- what people would
say now or years from now, but I know it was the handiwork of the Lord
that turned that plane. My Lord Jesus is bigger than the Trade Center
and His finger can push a plane aside!"
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