Today, on the twenty-fourth Anniversary of the Attack on New York City’s World Trade Towers, September 11, 2001, I am reminded that Americans pull together in times of tragedies.

My first visit to the horror of killing, was the airport in Memphis, Tennessee, when the airplane I was on was temporarily delayed to make way for the transfer of Reverend Martin Luther King’s coffin arriving from Washington DC.

When my plane finally approached Ronald Regan National Airport, the dark night skies viewed from the plane’s window showed Washington DC lit by fire. On landing, I learned that the airport was recommending passengers not venture into the city. However, I was met by my friend and he offered my seat companion a ride to his home located in a Washington DC neighborhood. The man, was a fellow traveler. During the flight we talked about hate, the impact Reverend King was making to bring people together, and this man’s work with black youth. During our drive past the Capitol, we saw armed troops sitting on the steps of the Capitol, heard sirens screaming their way to hospitals, localized fires aflame in neighborhoods and mobs creating additional havoc in an already traumatized city. Stopping before his home, he invited us in, and together with his wife, we watched the news coverage as one neighborhood after another was destroyed. This kindly man’s comment, still echoes in my head. “I’ve spent my last 50 years improving the life of black youngsters, and in one night my life’s work has been destroyed.”

On the morning of September 11, 20001, I was in my office and had just learned that my boss had passed away from a long illness, when my assistant came flying by my door telling me that a plane had hit the World Trade Center.

As the daughter of a senior airline captain, anything relating to aircraft freezes me momentarily until I can process the information. When I joined my colleagues watching the news coverage I saw a replay of the first plane crash, followed shortly by a plane flying into the second tower. And, people scattering on rooftops and streets running to safety. When both towers collapsed, so did my hope for survivors. My cousin was working for Cantor Fitzgerald, and only later that day learned he had left the firm one week before, and had not perished with the rest of his company.

To this day, I am unable to watch film of the horrific attack on America. Those burning towers, and people scrambling for safety, are burned into my soul.

Now, yesterday, a courageous young man, Charlie Kirk, who has spent his life drawing college students into conversation about life, liberty and faith, was assassinated in front of thousands of students gathered to hear and question his ideas.

Why am I bringing these three incidents to mind when there were children at prayer in Minnesota, killed by a mentally ill person. A young woman knifed on a train in North Carolina, as well as others young and old attacked on the street, even inside their homes. Because after Martin Luther King’s death, 9/11, and now Charlie Kirk, I pray that as in previous horrific events, we the good people of this country pull ourselves together and reach out to heal ourselves and others from these tragedies.

This isn’t about politics. It is about civility, humanity, freedom from fear. The Declaration of Independence begins with Life, Liberty and Pursuit of Happiness. It’s time to take these words to heart and one-by-one restore them to the people of this great nation.
# # #
                                                               website: patriciagitt.com