We are dedicating this page to the friends and families of those killed or injured during the cowardly attack on an innocent American civilian population on 9/11/01; also to the rescue workers and volunteers who have given so much of themselves to help during this tragedy - some have given all.

I guess when your heart gets broken, you sort of start to see the cracks in everything. I'm convinced that tragedy wants to harden us, and that our mission is to never let it. 

~ Sally in "Felicity" ~

From Karyn of Heart of Gold

If tomorrow all the things were gone 
I'd worked for all my life, 
And I had to start again 
with just my children and my wife, 
I'd thank my lucky stars 
to be living here today, 
'Cause the flag still stands for freedom 
and they can't take that away. 

I'm proud to be an American 
where at least I know I'm free, 
And I won't forget the men who died 
who gave that right to me, 
And I gladly stand up next to you 
and defend her still today, 
'Cause there ain't no doubt I love this land 
God Bless the U.S.A. 

From the lakes of Minnesota 
to the hills of Tennessee, 
Across the plains of Texas 
from sea to shining sea. 
From Detroit down to Houston 
and New York to L.A., 
There's pride in every American heart 
and it's time we stand and say: 

I'm proud to be an American 
where at least I know I'm free, 
And I won't forget the men who died 
who gave that right to me, 
And I gladly stand up next to you 
and defend her still today, 
'Cause there ain't no doubt I love this land 

~ Lee Greenwood ~

From AngelsPath of the Garden of Friendship

Just for being Americans . . .
BY DAVE BARRY


No humor column today. I don't want to write it, and you don't want to read it. 

No words of wisdom, either. I wish I were wise enough to say something that would help make sense of this horror, something that would help ease the unimaginable pain of the victims' loved ones, but I'm not that wise. I'm barely capable of thinking. Like many others, I've spent the hours since Tuesday morning staring at the television screen, sometimes crying, sometimes furious, but mostly just stunned. 

What I can't get out of my mind is the fact that they used our own planes. I grew up in the Cold War, when we always pictured the threat as coming in the form of missiles -- sleek, efficient death machines, unmanned, hurtling over the North Pole from far away. But what came, instead, were our own commercial airliners, big friendly flying buses coming from Newark and Boston with innocent people on board. Red, white and blue planes, with ``United'' and ``American'' written on the side. The planes you've flown in and I've flown in. That's what they used to attack us. They were able to do it in part because our airport security is pathetic. But mainly they were able to do it because we are an open and trusting society that simply is not set up to cope with evil men, right here among us, who want to kill as many Americans as they can. 

That's what's so hard to comprehend: They want us to die just for being Americans. They don't care which Americans die: military Americans, civilian Americans, young Americans, old Americans. Baby Americans. They don't care. To them, we're all mortal enemies. The truth is that most Americans, until Tuesday, were only dimly aware of their existence, and posed no threat to them. But that doesn't matter to them; all that matters is that we're Americans. And so they used our own planes to kill us. 

And then their supporters celebrated in the streets. 

I'm not naive about my country. My country is definitely not always right; my country has at times been terribly wrong. But I know this about Americans: We don't set out to kill innocent people. We don't cheer when innocent people die. 


A DECENT PEOPLE 

The people who did this to us are monsters; the people who cheered them have hate-sickened minds. One reason they can cheer is that they know we would never do to them what their heroes did to us, even though we could, a thousand times worse. They know that when we hunt down the monsters, we will try hard not to harm the innocent. Those are the handcuffs we willingly wear, because for all our flaws, we are a decent people. 

And now we are a traumatized people. The TV commentators keep saying that the attacks have awakened a ``sleeping giant.'' And I guess we do look like a giant, to the rest of the world. But when I look around, I don't see a giant: I see millions of individuals -- the resilient and caring citizens of New York and Washington; the incredibly brave firefighters, police officers and rescue workers risking their lives in the dust and flames; the politicians standing on the steps of the Capitol and singing an off-key rendition of God Bless America that, corny as it was, had me weeping; the reporters and photographers who have not slept, and will not sleep, as long as there is news to report; the people in my community, and communities across America, lining up to give blood, wishing they could do more. 


A GOOD COUNTRY 

No, I don't see a giant. What I see is Americans. We may have the power of a giant, but we also have the heart of a good and generous people, and we will get through this. We will grieve for our dead, and tend to our wounded, and repair the damage, and tighten our security, and put our planes back in the air. Eventually most of us, the ones lucky enough not to have lost somebody, will resume our lives. Some day, our country will track down the rest of the monsters behind this, and make them pay, and I suppose that will make most of us feel a little better. But revenge and hatred won't be why we'll go on. We'll go on because we know this is a good country, a country worth keeping. 

Those who would destroy it only make us see more clearly how precious it is. 

Thanks to Wolf Hearted for forwarding this one to me!

I'm Just an American

I'm the little boy who gives up his favorite teddy bear so that a stranger may be comforted.

I'm the single mother who has been trying to teach her children to sleep in their own beds, who holds them tight long into the night, thanking God it wasn't her child that died.

I'm the old man, angry and resentful that his military doesn't want him because of his age.

I'm the teenaged girl who spends hours cutting ribbons for others to wear as a symbol of remembrance.

I'm the young man who doesn't understand why his father was running up the stairs as the building fell, trying to save just one more person, instead of saving himself.

I'm the old woman who will never see her grandchild again.

I'm the little girl, playing with her doll, who can't understand when someone screams hateful things at her because of where her family is from.

I'm the police officer, trying to keep idiotic reporters safe when his wife is still among the missing.

I'm the fire fighter who called in sick that day, only to discover that someone else died in his place.

I'm the man who survived the falling building only to learn that his sister and baby niece were in the plane.

I'm the secretary, angered by the seemingly callous response of those around her.

I'm a spelunker, who is climbing down into the remains of a building, hoping to find someone still alive.

I'm the dog handler, searching for bodies, who has to comfort my animal when only death remains.

I'm the woman who stands in line for five hours in order to give blood, hoping to help strangers in need.

I'm the man who gets up and goes to work every day, in spite of the tragedy because he still has a family to feed.

I'm the first passenger to get back on a plane even though I'm terrified because I know somebody has to be first.

Who am I?
I'm nobody special.
I'm just an American!

-author unknown-

Page 3 - 911 Memorial

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