Twenty years ago this month, the United States suffered the worst attack committed on American soil since Pearl Harbor. I was in the National Guard at the time, was a police officer and was doing some contract work for a government satellite communications company. I was working at a site two hours from home (if traffic was good-the Washington, D.C. Beltway was involved). It took me almost five hours to get home. By the time I got there, I had a message waiting from my Readiness NCO at my Guard unit and my wife had pulled our children out of school. My biggest fear at the time was that they’d discover a biological agent had been delivered in the explosions at all three building impact crash sites—and that they wouldn’t discover it until either people started dying from it or it was found at the Shanksville, Pennsylvania crash site of Flight 93.
I still can’t find adequate words to express how I felt that day. The shock was nearly overwhelming. The anger that followed was measured. The desire to know who had dared attack us and how many American lives had been lost was in crystal clear focus. The images shown on television that day will forever live in my memories...and my nightmares.
In the course of the past 20 years, it seems we may have forgotten a few things, or somehow our focus and values seem to have changed. I’m not sure how much we actually changed anything with our war in Afghanistan and Iraq, especially now that we’ve pulled our troops out and the Taliban/Al-Queda/ISIS are surging to strength again. How little we seem to have learned.
In that 20 years, I’ve been proud to see young Americans step up patriotically; some serving our nation in military uniform, some in a public safety uniform and some serving in both. I’ve had the great honor of meeting men such as Marcus Lutrell and Dakota Meyer; to shake their hand and hold discussions with them. It’s amazing how such men can be so humble and unassuming. It’s equally amazing how inspiring they can be when they talk about service and what makes “a good American.”
So many of our young officers were just infants or toddlers in 2001. They have no real memory of that day. When they do see reports or information, the political slant put on it often undercuts the tone of the information delivered. It may be presumptuous of me, but I am so very proud of all those serving in a law enforcement uniform today. ANYONE in an American uniform gets my respect and appreciation, but I’ve always called our police officers and deputies our “front line at home.” The front line is still here. It’s right outside your door. It’s at the entry way of your businesses and wraps around your children’s schools. Please, continue to hold that line. America needs you—even when they don’t seem to realize it.
Honor the memory of those lost on Nine-Eleven with your service. Remember those who made the ultimate sacrifice. Never forget.
