----- Original Message -----
From: Henry Stevens <[email protected]>
To: <Undisclosed-Recipient:;>
Sent: Thursday, September 13, 2001 8:16 PM
Subject: I thought this apt
Published Wednesday, September 12, 2001 Pitts - Miami Herald
We'll go forward from this moment
It's my job to have something to say. They pay me to provide words
that
help make sense of that which troubles the American soul. But in
this
moment
of airless shock when hot tears sting disbelieving eyes, the only
thing I
can find to say, the only words that seem to fit, must be addressed
to the
unknown author of this suffering.
You monster. You beast. You unspeakable bastard.
What lesson did you hope to teach us by your coward's attack on our
World
Trade Center, our Pentagon, us? What was it you hoped we would
learn?
Whatever it was, please know that you failed. Did you want us to
respect
your cause? You just damned your cause. Did you want to make us
fear? You
just steeled our resolve.
Did you want to tear us apart? You just brought us together.
Let me tell you about my people. We are a vast and quarrelsome
family, a
family rent by racial, social, political and class division, but a
family
nonetheless. We're frivolous, yes, capable of expending tremendous
emotional
energy on pop cultural minutiae -- a singer's revealing dress, a
ball
team's
misfortune, a cartoon mouse. We're wealthy, too, spoiled by the
ready
availability of trinkets and material goods, and maybe because of
that, we
walk through life with a certain sense of blithe entitlement. We
are
fundamentally decent, though -- peace-loving and compassionate. We
struggle
to know the right thing and to do it. And we are, the overwhelming
majority
of us, people of faith, believers in a just and loving God.
Some people -- you, perhaps -- think that any or all of this makes
us
weak.
You're mistaken. We are not weak. Indeed, we are strong in ways
that
cannot
be measured by arsenals.
IN PAIN
Yes, we're in pain now. We are in mourning and we are in shock.
We're
still
grappling with the unreality of the awful thing you did, still
working to
make ourselves understand that this isn't a special effect from
some
Hollywood blockbuster, isn't the plot development from a Tom Clancy
novel.
Both in terms of the awful scope of their ambition and the probable
final
death toll, your attacks are likely to go down as the worst acts of
terrorism in the history of the United States and, probably, the
history
of
the world. You've bloodied us as we have never been bloodied
before.
But there's a gulf of difference between making us bloody and
making us
fall. This is the lesson Japan was taught to its bitter sorrow the
last
time
anyone hit us this hard, the last time anyone brought us such
abrupt and
monumental pain. When roused, we are righteous in our outrage,
terrible in
our force. When provoked by this level of barbarism, we will bear
any
suffering, pay any cost, go to any length, in the pursuit of
justice.
I tell you this without fear of contradiction. I know my people, as
you, I
think, do not. What I know reassures me. It also causes me to
tremble with
dread of the future. In the days to come, there will be
recrimination and
accusation, fingers pointing to determine whose failure allowed
this to
happen and what can be done to prevent it from happening again.
There will
be heightened security, misguided talk of revoking basic freedoms.
We'll go forward from this moment sobered, chastened, sad. But
determined,
too. Unimaginably determined.
THE STEEL IN US
You see, the steel in us is not always readily apparent. That
aspect of
our
character is seldom understood by people who don't know us well. On
this
day, the family's bickering is put on hold. As Americans we will
weep, as
Americans we will mourn, and as Americans, we will rise in defense
of all
that we cherish. So I ask again: What was it you hoped to teach us?
It
occurs to me that maybe you just wanted us to know the depths of
your
hatred. If that's the case, consider the message received. And take
this
message in exchange: You don't know my people. You don't know what
we're
capable of. You don't know what you just started.
But you're about to learn.