We were Safe

We were Safe

Rachel Hunt

I wrote this on September 11, around seven o'clock. Just my expression.

What truly offends about this day is the desecration of our refuge. Until this day all of us, every born American had the security of the knowledge that within our borders, we were safe. No major foreign war has ever been fought on American soil. We all know that one day another world war may break out, and that our loved ones and ourselves may be killed. Even will likely be killed. But you could always come home and be safe. As long as you didn't fight, or came back, you would be fine.

Isolated incidents of terrorism were known, but not an expected threat.

Now, today, on the eleventh day of September (note the date, 9-11), our home is defiled before our eyes, our parents, sisters and brothers killed on a scale unbeknownst to this land. We no longer have the security that, as long as we return to our home we will be all right.

We naïve children now face a truth that many others have before us: you can be killed anywhere.

During World War II the people of London were bombed in the streets in front of their very houses. For all of history people have known that one-day their overlord, king or even emperor may one day decide they don't deserve their lands, and could be without warning evicted and even put to death.

At this very moment I watch the news, and one man just quoted Franklin Roosevelt's famed words of a day that will live in infamy. Yes, this is an infamous day. Our children will read about it in textbooks, taking for granted the realizations that are coming in hard and quick for us. They will come home and ask of us, "How could you be so naïve?" and we will not have an answer.

This day will be remembered as infamous. But to those of us who lived it, ho were sitting in school or work and suddenly heard "The World Trade Center is gone," or "The pentagon is in flames," and the screaming headline "Attack on America," this day has surpassed infamous. I will for the rest of my life remember the feeling of wanting to wretch and cry at the same moment. I will forever remember what it was like to suddenly realize that my refuge was no longer safe. I will forever remember that no matter how much I scream for sanctuary, it doesn't mean anyone will listen.

On the same news program that I mentioned before they now listen to an interview. This interview is with a person who was at the center fifteen minutes before the first plane hit it. He says, "I remember the last person I talked to in there. He was a very nice young man, answered me very politely… Now he's probably dead."