Today…

by Nancy Lee VanDusen

 

Many Americans serving in Afghanistan today were babies or toddlers on September 11, 2001; many had already entered school; some were second-graders…

I purchased Pitter and Pat on Monday, September 10, 2001. As I left Ancient Times, our city’s small-reptile and pet emporium, I made the decision to take the two tiny frogs – along with any necessary paraphernalia – directly to my classroom. This way I wouldn’t have to rush the following morning. 

I awakened September 11, 2001 to disc jockey chatter and oldies, but quickly switched to an all-news station after hearing that an airplane had crashed into one of New York City’s World Trade Center buildings. I showered, dressed and applied make-up, all the while listening to the lurid nightmare unfold. I called two friends before driving to work.  

A group of us lingered in the Teachers’ Room, somberly glued to CNN. I recall my thoughts: teaching, writing… life.  Nothing matters if this unthinkable event is possible. I feared for my twenty-one-year-old son’s future and resented having to be at work. We should all be at home… praying.  

And I was angry. 

Angry at our government. Where were our protectors? Our leaders? Why had they failed to anticipate, to understand, foreign terrorist threat and mentality?   

And worried. 

Worried that our leaders would retaliate in haste. Use poor judgement. Fuel fires. As a single woman who cherishes her independence, I shudder at the thought of living in a country absent of God-given freedoms. Yet for some reason, I wasn’t moved to join the majority of my countrymen and women rigorously waving Old Glory. Embracing nationalism. 

As the days, months and years passed, the numbers 9/11 took on new meaning. Our moods shifted from shocked and fearful to guarded; formal government inquiries were conducted. Facts were revealed – many sadly supporting my initial concerns.

 

The eager seven- and eight-year-olds who scrambled past their teacher the morning of September 11, 2001, delighted by the thought of two tiny tree frogs taking up residence in their classroom, understood little of the events taking place in our country that day. Their innocence, earnest enthusiasm, and noisy in-my-face presence awakened me… jolted me out of my doom and gloom. 

 Twenty children, finding joy in two simple yet complex wonders of nature, became a gift. Each needed me that belief-questioning morning; a steady provider of security, safety and routine; an adult to share in the excitement of Pitter and Pat, and to eventually make delicate mention of that fateful morning’s world-changing events. 

Today, sadly, this generation – these seven- and eight-year-olds – are risking their lives, their mental stability. For what? Families gradually shatter. Suicide proves epidemic. Nobody, least of all our leaders, can offer explanations. Logical, lucid explanations.

Today… September, 2019   

  

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Nancy Lee VanDusen has a modest collection of creative nonfiction, has written three children's novels (a trilogy) and one fiction short story.