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My
Visit to Ground Zero
February 2002
Before
leaving Seattle for New York for an appearance
at Kevin Costner's "Dragonfly" media junket,
friends and family asked whether I planned
to visit Ground Zero. Without hesitation
I answered with a resounding "No!" I had
watched all I cared to see of September
11th's horror on television, and that
had been enough for me. However, during
a phone conversation with Miriam Horrocks
[ read letter
] whose husband was a pilot of the airplane
which struck the second tower, she explained
why she herself had visited Ground Zero,
and my feelings began to change. Once
in New York, I made the decision to go,
and my escort-son, Tom, agreed.
 Anticipating
what we might see there, my body began
to shake from nervous energy. During the
taxi ride there, I prayed for the brokenhearted,
in sincerity but also perhaps to focus
myself in a more positive way than my
feelings wanted to take me. I had the
driver let Tom and me out a couple of
blocks away from the site. I felt to walk
to that area, perhaps my Native American
spirit needed to approach the sacred place
in reverence. But I crawled reluctantly
out of the taxi. My spirit was overcome
with a sorrow that pervaded all my thoughts,
all my emotions. Others walked towards
the site, too, and our walk together was
somber, as though we were a funeral procession
all sharing the same loss.
Nearing
Ground Zero, the streets were crowded,
thick with people on all sides. But nobody
talked. A man accidentally bumped into
me, and he kindly whispered, "I'm sorry,"
which is something seldom said on the
streets of New York, much less so kindly
and in a whisper. I became aware of one
simple yet strange thing. I visit New
York often and am familiar with its noise,
rush, and never-ending busyness and chaos
of its streets. However, on this day,
in this area, taxies did not honk their
horns, or I did not hear them. It was
deadly still and quiet, something I had
never experienced in New York.
Fences
surrounded Ground Zero. All sorts of items
were posted and hanging there, things
belonging to those who were killed that
day, such as a hat or a shirt. Also there
were stuffed toys, cards, beanybabies,
sheets with messages scrolled across them,
photographs and every imaginable item
of remembrance on display. People seemed
to want you to know that their loved one,
who once lived, had died in this dreadful
event. People stood like me, mesmerized,
reading almost aloud in a prayerful manner
each and every message. It was as if you
were compelled to view them all, read
them all, not wanting to leave one out.
It
was just nearing noon and tickets to view
Ground Zero up close were gone for the
day. Not that I wanted or needed to get
any closer. My spirit had already opened
to receive all that it could of September
11, 2001. I knew that those who had died
here did not "haunt" or continue to dwell
in this space. But energy from the tremendous
tragedy did still permeate the area. I
began to feel it, taste it, and live it,
as though I had been there on that day
to witness it all.
In
spite of this, I continued praying, as
others were praying too. Tears streamed
down faces. Strangers hugged one another,
as visitors like me from various States
felt the tremendous loss of life and the
pain associated with the destructive,
senseless harm inflicted on humankind
at that location. I thought that, were
I God, and were this a horror which had
to occur, I too might have chosen or allowed
it to happen in New York City. New Yorkers
are resilient people. They are strong
and are survivors. They will rebuild and
get on with life as perhaps no other city
could do. Their skyline still sets them
apart as one of the great cities. But
more than this, their energy for life
is felt by all who visit, even now. Many
who perished were not New Yorkers, but
I felt that these also, and their families,
possess strength and capacity to overcome
and endure, even though their days and
nights must still, only months after this
tragedy, be filled with unknowable grief
and even torment. I prayed for healing
blessings for all of them.
Standing
there on Fulton street, which gives full
view of the empty space where the towers
once stood, my spirit became flooded with
emotions, not of my own, but of those
whose lives were taken. I felt their fear
and anxiety. I did not feel to cry now,
my feelings were too extreme, too deep
for that. What I felt comes after the
horror: the shock and trauma to body,
heart, and soul! My body tensed, my muscles
went tight, and I felt ill. I was unable
to endure more. I whispered to Tom, "I
am done," and we left.
My Thoughts
Today
September 2006
It
is five years since 9/11/01, and terrorism
continues with us. We grieve five years
later because there is no resolution.
The towers are gone, and nothing yet replaces
them. The loss, the shock, still feels
fresh as we turn our thoughts to remember
that day. We've been defiled, and we live
with that defilement every time we see
the altered New York City skyline. Every
time we hear another news story about
loss or courage from that day. Every time
we take an airplane. This is like having
been abused or raped. You do not completely
overcome it. And perhaps we should not.
An occurrence so filled with all the complexity
and consequence of deep human tragedy,
should mark us, should alter us, should
never be forgotten. Especially because
9/11 was no accident.
Since
visiting Ground Zero, I have had to come
to grips with my feelings about the terrorists.
I have wanted to heal from the blow they
have dealt us, and I have wanted to be
free of harboring deep anger against them.
These get in the way of aligning ourselves
with Heavenly Father. He would have us
forgive and be filled with intent to love,
no matter the circumstances. The terrorists
believed they were giving to God their
highest sacrifice in carrying out their
awful deeds. Of course, we know they do
not engage in suicide-killings based on
true contact with God, or on strength
gained from authentic spiritual growth.
They do it from ignorance, from misguidance,
from error-filled tradition and false
teachings, from an inflamed sense of injustice
and the belief that they qualify as God's
agents in bringing destruction to the
"infidel" nations.
But
at these thoughts, my heart would well
up with anger, not pity. Because they
hurt so many lives. But I knew I had to
forgive. Though I did not lose any of
my loved ones on 9/11, terrorism has affected
my life, my country, my business, my fellow
citizens. What the terrorists did and
continue doing damages lives and undermines
peace and freedom worldwide.
So
I had to look at the conditions of their
lives as individuals. At the oppression
of poverty and lack of opportunity mixed
with religious authoritarianism and dangerous
fanaticism. I had to see their actions
as what they have needed in order to find
a measure of self worth in this world.
They feel they have nothing which gives
them status except their bold and defiant
faith, and the glory they are taught awaits
them by bringing destruction in the name
of God. They terrorize because they themselves
feel terror as hurt and wounded souls
who are in doubt that can attain any value
in the eyes of God except through exceptional
self-sacrificial acts. This is their search
to find esteem in the eyes of men and
to be loved and accepted by Heaven.
This
does not make them right in any degree.
Nor does it mean they should be tolerated.
We must stop them by whatever means is
necessary. It seems most religions have
their factions that twist correct principles
in such a way as to justify violence or
unnatural acts. The Muslim religion is
a God-centered, family-oriented, love-based,
peace-seeking way of life. It does not
create these terrorists. Individual and
personal dysfunction creates them, and
they use Islam as their excuse.
Knowing,
as I do, the unconditional love of God,
it brings sadness to my heart to see such
lost souls. Not lost to God, but lost
to the true knowledge of him and his love
for each of us. A love which no one needs
to earn and no one needs to feel at risk,
ever, of losing. And so I am brought to
sorrow and pity over those who, in deep
ignorance and deep longing for self worth
and God's approval, succumb to the fatal
allure of terrorism. And I must look at
my own choices, and those of this nation,
and pray that we are all using our abundant
blessings and free will to bring equality
and the benefits of a higher standard
of living and of loving into every corner
of our communities and of our world. I
take responsibility for my choices, as
I do for my anger. And I have finally
come to forgive, as we all must, even
while supporting every effort to conquer
and bring to justice the forces and faces
of terrorism. Forgiveness does not free
the perpetrator from justice or from suffering
the consequences of his actions. It does,
however, free us from the spiritual errors
of anger, hate, and vengeance-seeking.
As the Bible says, and as I learned in
heaven during my life review, what we
hold against our brother will ripple back
to be held against us.
Let
us grieve for the murdered and the murderer.
Let us grieve for our world so divided
by pride and greed, hate and violence.
But let tragedy nor grief weaken us nor
slow our efforts to make a better world
for ourselves and our children. Let us
be strengthened by what challenges us,
and our resolve made more sure to change
negative conditions in our world and amongst
our brothers and sisters wherever they
are found. Let us be bold and courageous
in accepting responsibility to serve and
to love, but also to protect and preserve
what is precious and sacred. And let us
teach our children not to walk this world
in fear, but to look to God for all things
bright and good. For, in spite of the
darkest deeds of evil and designing men,
God is all around us and is more powerful
than they all. Fear only feeds the purposes
of terrorism.
By
allowing 9/11, God has shown what can
happen, and we must become more resilient,
like the New Yorkers. We must refuse to
give in to fear and terror. This is how
we can do battle against terrorism. Not
to give it power to make us afraid. I
learned this rule of fighting as a child:
take away the club that beats you. You
do this by removing the power in the club
which you yourself give it. We will not
cower before it or lie down to be overrun.
One thing I really do believe about our
blessings of America: we've had our wars
and terror and hardships from the days
of our Founding Fathers. Our nation and
our freedom were born in the throws of
the fight. We are not a weak nation. God
will see us through anything we must face,
as he will for good people everywhere
who sincerely look to him and stand firm
in the Light of Truth he so lovingly provides.
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