Freedom in surrender: The silver linings of fear and uncertainty

Human Life Review, Fall 2001 by Pickup, Mark, Bottum, J

The telephone rang, scaring me out of a sound sleep. I answered with a groggy "Hello." My daughter's panic-stricken voice was on the other end of the line: "Turn on the TV Dad! Planes are crashing into buildings in New York." Huh? Planes-plural? Buildings-plural? My initial thought was that she had either misunderstood a news story or was embellishing one. After all, my daughter has the most exquisite sense of theatre and drama. "What does this mean, Dad?!" she pleaded. Still half-asleep, I said I'd call her back as soon as I could gather my bearings. Mornings are slow for me because of multiple sclerosis (MS). My first task was to fight spasticity as I got into my wheelchair and made my way to the living room to turn on the T.V.

The images on CNN were unbelievable! Smoke was billowing from the World Trade Center. I could hear screams, sirens, chaotic scrambling. People were frantically running from the disaster, office workers were jumping from windows to certain deaths. No! I must be mistaken. Surely it was glass or other debris I saw falling, not people!

The CNN announcer grappled with these horrible images while new reports were handed to him as he spoke. Dumbfounded, he struggled to make sense of the rapidly developing events before an audience of millions of transfixed viewers with their jaws on their chests, like me. A plane, he announced, had also hit the Pentagon. Still another had crashed into a Pennsylvania field. This was no theatre; I wasn't watching a movie. I was watching a newscast! Real people were dying at that very moment, right before my eyes. Quite simply, my mind could not accept nor comprehend what was happening.

A Phoenix Rises from the Ashes

Death and destruction hung thick like the cloud of smoke over New York's skyline. Then a strange and wonderful thing happened. Into the carnage ran a brigade of rescue workers to help the trapped and the doomed. It was as though they were running into Hell itself to save others. They did not shrink back or hesitate. Many ran into eternity. If they were afraid, they took their fears to premature graves along with their pledges to "serve and protect." And as they entered the ages their voices seemed to call back, urging America to rise to her best at this dark and terrible hour in her history. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, America did rise to the call, transforming catastrophe into a renewed commitment to neighbor and country. Through tears of sorrow, grief and terror, ordinary citizens gave flesh to America's greatness.

The terrorists thought the World Trade Center symbolized America. They were wrong. America's greatness does not lie in her enormous economic prowess (or massive military might) but in her people-ordinary people living in ordinary communities. "One nation under God." Make that remarkable people, cleverly disguised as ordinary citizens: soccer moms and dads, grandparents, friends, neighbors and business associates.

On September 11th I witnessed an eruption of wickedness at the hands of terrorists, resulting in a massive, tragic loss of life. But I also saw majesty personified in the heroism of firefighters, police officers, and emergency personnel. I saw it in ordinary folks who lined up to give blood, or who donated generously to victim-relief efforts, and in the New Yorkers who filled the streets to cheer and applaud rescue workers. Though September llth was a dark day indeed, it was also a day when America's greatness shone bright like a beacon for all the world to see. If there's anything positive to come from catastrophe, perhaps it lies in this: Disaster and loss give people an opportunity to rise to their best, or sink to their worst. America has chosen to be her best.

Wide-eyed Fear/White-hot Hatred

Osama bin Laden and his rag-tag al-Qaeda network of murderers, strategists, and toadies targeted America's dearest possessions: the freedom, liberty, and sense of security her citizens enjoy. The country was pitched into deep national mourning, only to be confronted next with the unleashing of bio-terrorism. Grief turned to waves of fear.

Of course, terror is the point of terrorism. Terrorists gauge their success by the degree of wide-eyed fear they can instill in as many people as possible. Bin Laden et al. are motivated by an irrational, white-hot hatred for America. They cannot successfully fight a military battle against the U.S., so they wage a war of stealth from the shadows, wreaking havoc on the ordinary affairs of life-opening a letter, taking a plane, going to work.

Al-Qaeda aims to riddle Americans with fear, so that they will be perpetually looking over their shoulders during the day, awaking in the middle of the night sweating and with fists clenched. Bin Laden apparently believes that if he succeeds in crippling Americans with uncertainty and paranoia, their cherished freedom and liberty will vanish. Al Qaeda's candle will bum brighter, he thinks, if America's light goes out. All that will remain (he hopes) will be hollow memories of a former glory, which will fade with time.