By: Ali Elizabeth Turner
In one week, we will be doing that odd and important thing that humans do, and that is to put special significance on a historical event based on a year that fits evenly into the number one hundred and its multiples. By that, I mean it has been 25 years, a quarter of a century since we were shocked by an attack on our land that cost around three thousand lives and in a moment changed everything. The shorthand of the English language is simply, “9/11.”
We speak in terms of “before 9/11,” and “after 9/11.” Sometimes we say things like “on 9/11” to illustrate the indescribable things we felt, heard, saw, experienced, or were spared from experiencing.
Everyone remembers where they were when they got the news and then got in front of a TV and watched planes fly into buildings. We had lived in Alabama a little over a year, having come here from the mission field at an orphanage in Mexico. We were visiting friends, and I literally was on my knees, praying, but not re: 9/11. I was just doing my morning thing when a friend with whom I had gone to theological school walked in, interrupted my prayer time, and quite soon after that I had an experience that I shall never forget. It is stronger than watching the planes go in or the buildings come down. It was the sound of a human voice.
My sister Kathryn lives in New York City and was walking my niece to school when they heard the first plane go in, turned around, and saw the second plane go in. I called her, managed to get through and the first words that came out of her mouth were, “I’m OK. Jay (my brother-in-law) is OK. He was up the street.” I don’t believe I have ever been more relieved to hear a human voice, and as I write this, it still brings tears to my eyes. Then she said, “I’ve got to go — Caitlin (my other niece) is calling.”
Four years later, I was in the middle of my three years in Iraq, and the entire theatre took time on 9/11 to pause and remember what had happened on that day five years earlier. Remarkably, on a base known as Radwaniyah, our National Guard unit that was tasked with perimeter patrol on was the Fighting 69th out of New York, and they had been immediately mobilized on 9/11. For them, the war was already five years old. There was a man whose nickname was Smitty Jingles. He would come to our MWR center, which once upon a time was Uday Hussein’s hunting lodge where he hunted humans, and we would play Yahtzee by the hour. One night we had a “where were you on 9/11” session with the guys, and they began to talk about where they actually were, and then, their assignment. Turns out, Smitty Jingles was the one who stood outside my sister’s apartment in SoHo and guarded it. That is another thing that brings tears to my eyes. A kind man, a warrior, and a patriot who became a friend was the one that guarded my sister and her family. So, I am grateful for the “looking back” part for far more than the reasons I just gave.
Looking forward blends in with looking up. Those of us who are “people of the Book” have read the end of the Book, and there is no mistake who wins. Until then, there will be people who think that what happened on 9/11 was justified, and some are “serving” in our national legislative bodies. Thankfully there are far more who don’t agree, and our job is to keep going and pray for those who think that they are doing God a service when they kill in the manner of what will always be known as 9/11. We look back, we look forward, and most importantly, we look up. Our Redeemer is the only one who can and will put an end to this madness, and I think it’s reasonable to say, “It won’t be long.”
By: Ali Elizabeth Turner
