Wednesday, September 16, 2020

Never forget?


I didn't post a 911 remembrance this year. I was out at a small ceremony and didn't want to do it when I came home. I know a lot of people say "Never forget." But I think most of America has forgotten.

This is a photo of my father in law pulling a hose in Brownsville in 1971. The conditions we had in 1971 are back today. The Black Liberation army had shot down Officers Piagentini and Jones in their patrol car in an assassination as just happened in LA. The mutts applauded and celebrated then too. The black neighborhoods were in flames and the firemen had to go put out fires when they threw cinder blocks down on them from the roof. My father in law would tell stories about those days. About how he had to stop probies from rushing in to save people because they would set fires, then make holes in the flow and cover them with a sheet so the firefighter would fall and break a leg by falling down a floor. He had a ton of stories about how the animals acted back in those days. Those days are back with a vengeance.

Two kids on a high school football team carried flags honoring the thin blue line and the thin red line on to the field where everyone else had Black Lives Matters flags. They were suspended and thrown off the team. It only lasted a day because of the outcry but that is where the schools head is at. You can honor criminals who die of a drug overdose in police custody by looting a CVS and setting fire to a church but if you honor the fire department you get thrown off the team.

They tried to cancel the reading of the names but a private group funded it and got it done. That is what it is going to come down to if anyone is going to remember. The memory is fading. In time it will be like the dead of World War One. Something in a history book. A white mans history book if they even let us have that anymore.

Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it.

2 comments:

edutcher said...

Have to disagree.

It's like Peter Jennings the year after 9/11. Yeah, yeah, yeah, it was terrible, lotsa dead people, horrible; let's get on to some Lefty stuff.

The Left would like to forget it, much as they want to ignore all the good Trump is doing, but they're not the country. Much as they want to ignore it was a Trump judge that slapped down PA's lockdown.

And Bullwinkle L Moose will get Trump re-elected. The Lefties don't control the narrative anymore.

If they did, President Beast would be in a sanitarium and the Co-President would be grazing on 13 year old interns in the Oval Office.

MamaM said...

What did you take back from the small ceremony you attended this year? What touched your heart? What firmed your resolve?

What memories came back for you? Which ones have never left?

Over and over again, in the art, music, words, and stories presented here on this one blog, the power of one life, one thought, one vision, one joke, one painted or sculpted expression recalled on down through the ages, has been revealed as significant. With some unexpected impacts realized that extend beyond what can be controlled or imagined.

And that makes me wonder if in the long run what each of us remembers, holds, and conveys for ourselves and others is what matters most? Is it possible that in doing so we form and invite connections through which Spirit can move like wind or fire--more powerful and far-reaching than anything we can force or require on our own?

What mattered to you about that day and what continues to matter?

Behind the anger and lament that arises in the face of depravity, death, and destruction, it sounds from your post as though it's the willingness of humans to commit to good in the presence of evil, along with the loyalty and sense of duty needed to see things through, that's what you most want others to remember and honor, along with the value of life itself? Is that close?

I have several memories of that day and event. They're hard to describe. One involves my awareness of how blue and lovely, fresh and green the day was as I watched the horror unfold; and I recall the difficulty I had then and still have to this day of clearly seeing and "knowing good and evil", and holding those two realities side by side as I move forward with my own life intact.

I also recall a report I saw and heard that day (that I've not seen played since but wish I could view again) that revealed the real and raw emotions and deep in-the-moment gratitude of someone who just experienced a selfless life-saving act. It was a live report from a female reporter who'd come off the street into the safety of the studio following the collapse of the first tower. Her hair and clothes were in disarray and she looked like a ghost, covered from head to toe in ash dust and debris. She said she's been running in fear for her life just ahead of the advancing cloud when a fireman pulled her into a doorway and covered her with his body and coat as the darkness rolled over and enveloped them. She was breathless and out of control, open and vulnerable as she faced the cameraman, unable to remain objective or moderate her response as she revealed the panic, fear, and confusion she was feeling along with the deep wonder and gratitude that also washed over her as she realized someone committed to saving lives, had reached out to use his own body and protective garments to protect and save hers. That moment has stayed with me.

On the Sunday following 9/11, as I sat on the floor of the church with my class of 3rd graders sitting in a circle around me while they drew pictures with markers on paper of their own images/experiences/recall of that day, I shared that story with them. Whatever those children carried forward or remember now as 27-year-old adults is theirs to sort. I did my part to honor what was real. I wish I still had the pictures they drew to share here, but they too belong to them.

In the long run, that's really all we have, pictures, stories, words, and impressions along with the freedom to convey and share what matters most, in the moment and years later.

Thanks for the post TY and the opportunity to sort through my own questions, thoughts and memories.