Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness throughout the world.

Special Treat – Pamela Garlick

September 11, 2007

Our Special Treat to day will be an anniversary tribute for the 911 tragedy.  It is six years since The United States of America was attached.  Canadian soldiers are still fighting along side their American Brothers in Afghanistan.  The Quebec Van Doos have only was the last Canadian regiment to be sent to Afghanistan.  They have been there only a month and have already suffered three casualties. Please pray that we will defeat the Taliban once and for all and restore peace to that country.

Carol

And Now for Pamela Garlick’s tribute

K_P_Garlick@msn.com

You can also visit me at: Relations at Bella Online ; and, buy my novel "At the Pineapple Inn" at the following link. 



My latest novel, "Into the Flames" is also available and part of the proceeds for this will go to Safe Kids. Click here to purchase this book:

Reflections of 911

by Pam Garlick

K_P_Garlick@msn.com

I was just reading another person's reflections of 911, and it returned my own thoughts to that horrible morning five years ago. Only I will have to back up a few days before that. I hope you will patiently keep reading.

You see, Saturday morning, September 9, 2001 I had been invited to attend what was called "Stand Down". It was a very poignant day.

Every year various groups get together in Philadelphia to hold this event. I do not recall if they do it in other cities, but I believe it is a national event. Much of the research I did for that story is buried or lost; I’m ashamed to say. For I could not get my brain to refocus for some time after that day.

However, here is what I recall, and if I’m incorrect on some parts, I ask everyone to please forgive me. Simply stated - though there is nothing simple about it - "Stand Down" was created to assist homeless veterans. It was a very long morning as I got to observe many of the services provided that day, from dental work, medical exams, assistance with benefits, and counseling. The volunteers fed them, and assisted in job hunting or finding a place to live, if that was the veteran’s desire.

I got to interview some of these fine people who served our country in wars past, some as far back as WWII and Vietnam, or more recent, the Gulf War. On that day, we had no clue we were so close to another Gulf War. Only that the brave people who served us in the past not be forgotten souls.

If I remember correctly there were estimated 3,000 homeless vets in Philadelphia. That seems too high for just one city, so it could be estimates for the entire country. If anyone has the correct number, please post them. I think it’s important for us to know this so that we do everything we can to keep that number from increasing after this war is over.

Only one story sticks in my mind, though there were others that were equally important. A young mother who served, and who, now divorced, found herself moving between family members homes and the streets. She admitted problems she was trying to deal with, but said her biggest desire was to start over and have a better life. I don’t even recall whether she had her children, but I don’t think she did. My heart went out to her and her broken family. Her broken life.

My husband and I returned home emotionally exhausted from everything we had seen that day. Saddened by the thought that our country could have forgotten these people who had served us so well. At the same time, I knew I had to be objective, and doing that meant admitting some of them had made the choice of homelessness. Yet, that woman’s story stuck in my mind. She had not made that choice; maybe some poor choices, but homelessness was not something she wanted.

However, when we arrived home there was a message from our son-in-law, Eli, on our machine. Our second granddaughter was about to make her debut in this world. We returned the call and quickly made arrangements for our dogs, packed a few things and were out the door again, heading north toward the PA/NY line, wanting nothing more than to be there for her birth.

It was a three hour drive, and we were there on time to learn Sandy was being prepped for a C-section. It wasn’t long after we learned Angela was born and both she and mother were doing fine. Dad was also doing great, smiling from ear to ear, though looking more than a little exhausted. We could only imagine how Sandy was feeling.

We got to visit with her only briefly to assure ourselves she was fine, then went back to their home for some rest before returning again the following morning when were be able to hold our precious granddaughter for the first time. It was a wonderful day. It could have been pouring rain with thunder and lightening for all I knew, but it was still wonderful!

Flash forward one more day. I was at my desk as usual, thinking I might actually get some writing done. It was a cross between writing about "Stand Down", or something about the joy of becoming a grandmother once again.

Then the phone rang. It was my son asking if I’d seen the television. I had not. He told me to turn it on.

While I grasped the telephone I tried to make sense of what I was watching, while my son went on to tell me there was a possibility they were going to have to evacuate the day care and they would need my help.

You see, his fianc? Trisha and her mother ran an in-home day care. I often helped them when they took the kids on field trips, because they needed extra drivers. But this was not going to be a field trip. We lived close to a nuclear power plant and no one knew what was going to happen next. Just that they feared there were going to be more targets.

As I watched the TV I remember the horror of the second plane flying into the second tower in New York. Then as my mind started to function I thought about my father. His health was not good, and he was not supposed to drive. I knew my mother was away for a few days and he was alone.

I called him and if I remember I didn’t get an answer, so I called his neighbor and asked her to look out for him until I knew what was happening with the day care. It was eventually decided no evacuation was going to be needed, but I still felt better bringing my father to my house for the rest of the day. It was later in the day he wanted to go home to his normal routine.

I don’t think at that point it had really sank in that nothing was ever going to be normal again. At least not as we had grown used to it being. No, we were going to have to make some changes in the way we thought about things, we would have to begin to be more alert about things we had taken for granted before. And we would always remember that day each in our own way.

Perhaps the most poignant was summed up a year ago in our son-in-law, Eli’s Sunday sermon on forgiveness. Eli stood in front of his congregation and said all the right things about how we should forgive others, then he confessed of his own struggles doing just that. He took us back to that day, which had then been four years earlier. He told how September 9 of that year was one of the happiest days of his life, when Angela was born. How delighted he was in his new little girl; only to have the joy intruded upon two days later in what, for him, became an unforgivable moment. He went from wanting to spend days of unparalleled happiness, to having to focus on his congregation’s needs during a time with so much pain and uncertainties.

Eli was near tears as he stood before his congregation sharing his experience, and how he still struggled with the concept -- no not concept, it was God’s will that he forgive those terrorists for what they had done. Their unthinkable act had robbed him, overshadowed his most joyous moment, and had taken so much more form others.

His honestly was touching, but his sermon was right on target. We are to forgive. It seems impossible sometimes. But we must. That does not mean we let it happen again. No, we must do whatever we can to prevent that.

I am not going to get on a platform saying we are now fighting a war that is just. That it is needed. I can’t do that. I have my own difficulties accepting that as a fact.

But no matter what our politics or personal beliefs may be, I have to say this, we owe it to those who are doing what they feel is their duty to protect us and our freedoms, to not let them return to be among those who I got to see and meet on Sept 9, 2001.

I may never have finished that article, because I had difficulties concentrating on anything for weeks after 911. I was also preoccupied with a new grandchild. By the time I got my act together and somewhat back to normal, the event was long past, no longer news. So, today, perhaps, I make up for that just a little.

For more on Stand Down go to: http://www.nchv.org/standdown.cfm