Remembering September 11th

Twenty years ago today I was an undergraduate student at the Catholic University in Washington, DC. Standing outside on the grounds of the Bascilica, we watched the smoke from the attack at the Pentagon rise into the sky. When we went into the dorms, we crowded together around the TV, watching the live footage from New York. Tears rained down down our faces as we watched people leaning out of the windows of the Twin Towers - as they climbed out and clung to the sides of the burning towers, many eventually letting go and falling to their death - all buried shortly thereafter with the collapse of the towers themselves. So many of us were forced that day to emerge from our safe little cocoon into the reality much of the rest of the world already knew so well. We could not yet fathom - how was this happening on American soil??

A week later I attended class at the Pentagon.??Not anticipating 9/11, the University had let me register for a graduate class called the ‘Just War.’ It was made up of six students, three of which were employed through the Department of Defense.??One of my classmates met me at the metro to take me into the Pentagon as I was a civilian without a DOD identification badge and therefore required an escort.?

I asked him how he was after all that had happened last week.??He informed me that seven of his coworkers had perished in the attack, and that his office had been one of those demolished.??At the time, unfamiliar with the deep, ingrained sense of duty and purpose held by so many of our US servicemembers, I was blown away - having been so directly affected by such a shattering experience, he was there, following through with even the most minute of his responsibilities.??

After class, one of the students took us outside to view the damage from the attack.??Standing no more than 200 yards from the charred black hole in the Pentagon, I was struck by the tragedy and found it impossible to ignore - it was no longer displayed before me on a television screen, but instead right before my eyes.??I was awed, however, by the utter enormity of the Pentagon.??Seeing the terrible hole in the building on television, I hadn’t realized something critical - and that was just how much was still standing.??Surrounding that charred, gaping hole was an image of indestructibility, of strength, of everything that our nation stands for.??The largest U.S. flag I had ever seen hung from the side of the building, and watching it, I knew that America would recover.??

Two weeks after the attack I was in New York for a meeting at the United Nations. We used to bring delegations of US students to participate in international negotiations when our own government declined - in this case, the issue at hand was the formation of an International Criminal Court. A group of our US and European student delegates headed down to lower Manhattan. What we had seen play out on live TV seemed impossible and we wanted to witness it with our own eyes. The extent of the destruction became clear to us from the scent of the air long before anything we actually saw. But when we joined the line of people who had come to witness that still smoking pile wreckage and pay tribute to the people buried beneath, what still sticks and with me 20 years later were the first responders standing on that mass of destruction, digging out, with no regard for their own health and safety.?

At the time, I believed that with so many of us left in this world, we would remember this tragedy, and have the opportunity to see that everything possible is done to prevent its recurrence in the future.??I believed then, and still believe today that the attack was not simply a challenge to America's freedom.??It was a challenge to the strength of our common humanity, and whether or not we will survive it will depend on the choices we make, now and in the future.?

We declared war. The father of my children turned out to be a man who spent two years of his young life on the front lines of that war, which gave me??an entirely new perspective. He survived and we now have a relatively wonderful life and family. As we all know, too many did not survive and too many are still unable to find their way through the aftermath. Our collective responsibility in ensuring those first responders, warfighters and their families who answered the call for our nation twenty years ago have what they need to recover from their role in the aftermath remains just as critical today.

I ended up moving away from a potential career in international law and justice into an actual one in global and domestic public health and health policy. However, the most important role I continue to serve even today is as an advocate, albeit now focused on patients instead of victims of war. If there is one thing the last 20 years have taught me, it’s that while America is unquestionably the greatest country on earth - our freedom to speak our minds and take comfort in our religious beliefs is unparalleled, and we must continue to defend it - we also must continue to take a leadership role in our global community. The challenges continue - COVID, climate change - and the most vulnerable - those in abject poverty, those children and families with major disabilities or in health crises - remain in dire need of assistance.

Earlier this week, watching the beam of light shine up from where the passenger plane exploded into the Pentagon, I was inspired again by the strength and resilience of our great nation - and my faith in our common humanity. We have so many resources in this world, and it’s up to each one of us to endure those resources are allocated appropriately to ensure that all people can live with dignity and freedom. If God grants me the opportunity to continue to walk this earth, for however many years, no matter what falls or does not, I will continue to serve as an advocate and I hope you will too. In the words of Albert Camus:

“Great ideas, it has been said, come into the world as gently as doves. Perhaps then, if we listen attentively, we shall hear, amid the uproar of empires and nations, a faint flutter of wings, the gentle stirrings of life and hope. Some will say that this hope lies in a nation; others, in a man. I believe rather that it is awakened, received, nourished by millions of solitary individuals whose deeds and works every day negate frontiers and the crudest implications of history. As a result, there shines forth fleetingly the ever threatened truth that each and every man, on the foundations of his own sufferings and joy, builds for all."