I don't know, maybe it's easier for me to deal with the rawness of human life, and death, because in my work I've seen so much of it. It may even partly be because I'm Irish, fighting Irish. But when I learned about Nine Eleven it was awhile before anger surfaced.

I woke up that morning noticing the little red light blinking on my phone, with a message from a son who had learned about the first plane, but he was so upset, his message wasn't clear.

I turned on the news expecting to see some insane creature had flown into a building in some foreign country. When I realized it was in ours, the numbness set in.

I've never been a big TV watcher. Seldom turn it on. It was like all feeling left my body, and the shell of it was dazed. A few days later I remembered how I reacted to the Oklahoma slaughter of innocent people a few years before.

When I saw what was left of that building, I thought it was in some far off place, and was astounded one person could do that much harm.

As I learned of the other planes, I realized the one that crashed in Pennsylvania was intended for the White House. I cared much about that, but my more personal concern was that it crashed much too close to roads and campgrounds my daughter Bev and family use.

The helplessness of it all is what bothered me most. I had to find a flag, our flag. Stores quickly sold all they had, so I was ecstatic, almost happy, when more arrived.

I don't mean to be morbid about Nine Eleven. The title of this is what I hope you'll remember. Like most of us, I functioned in my immediate world, dealt with my immediate concerns, and often felt there wasn't enough of me to go around then, in what I thought was a calmer, safer place.

Nine Eleven shook all complacency out of me, taught me to never again take for granted anything about my country. Each of us remembers a certain detail about it, a certain thing that reminds us, not just that it happened, but asks what can we do to keep it from happening again.

One picture about it is forever in my mind, the firemen, covered with smut and dust and grime, raising a battered flag. I found a keychain with the picture. I'm glad it's well made, for I want it to last a long, long time.

Yesterday I felt restless, so I went to a shopping mall. Didn't see much signifying the day displayed, but was thinking about it, and suddenly realized what I could do to mark the day.

City and State provide offices there where citizens can get marriage licenses, update vehicle registrations, maybe even get tags for animals, and pay taxes. I wasn't sure, but went in and asked, and the lady said yes, when I asked if I could register to vote.

I filled out the paper and handed it to her, and thought, that's it! It is just that easy to take our country and its freedoms for granted.


I'd been here three months. Done lots of shopping in the mall, but until the anniversary of Nine Eleven hadn't bothered to find out where to sign up to vote.


As I walked away I clutched the keychain in my pocket, and was relieved our country survived another year since Nine Eleven.