September 11, 2001
Thirty-five foot swells and seventy-knot winds-a backwash from Hurricane Erin had kept cruise ship passengers up most of the night. Those of us who could still walk had just finished a large noon meal when, not at his scheduled time, the captain of The Grandeur of the Seas came on the loudspeaker.
When he did, I think all of us sensed this was not good news. Who could imagine what he would tell us? The devastation of the World Trade Center. The Pentagon bombed. Another jetliner crashing into Pennsylvania. People fleeing the cities. Fighter jets circling overhead. All other planes grounded. Thousands of people missing and presumed dead. No mention of whether our president was alive or dead.
We had no other news. In the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, no satellite gave us access to TV. No phones worked. The captain's bridge was secured; all cabins searched.
Of all the l800 people on board our ship, one man among the passengers had a shortwave radio, and by leaning over the side he picked up crackling bits and pieces of news. Other than that, our only contact with the outside world became the Internet and Email. It was a frightening and unsettled time.
On September 12, some of us standing outside looked up. One airplane, trailing a large jet stream, flew low, just to the west of our ship. Was this someone on a mission? Would he look down and see a vulnerable ocean liner? Or was this a scheduled flight that had somehow slipped through?
After the initial shock, those of us who had been pampered patrons on a luxury liner became uneasy with the attendants cleaning our cabins, serving our meals, polishing the woodwork and mirrors, and scrubbing the decks. Many of these were poor people from third world countries, working to send money home to their impoverished families; some of them were caught up in political unrest in their own homelands. They looked at us uneasily, as we did them, but slowly, we began talking in ways other than, "We need more ice."
Instead –"What do you think?"
Pain on their faces. "Those poor families."
A whispered word. "Pray."
Hijacked planes storming across America's skies had ravished our nation, but on a cruise ship, in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, all of us from so many different backgrounds and cultures, came together.
Most of will remember where we were, what we were doing, and how we felt when we heard the dreadful news of this cowardly mass murder in New York, in Washington, and in Pennsylvania.
December 7, l941
And oh, I still recall another day.
Some eighty years ago, those of us old enough to remember and who are still here on God's green earth will recall the bombing of Pearl Harbor, "A day that will live in infamy," and most of us can tell you exactly what we did and where we were.
I was only eight when Pearl Harbor was bombed. Normally, on a Sunday morning, our family would have been at church. But I vaguely remember pulling my little brother, Alvin, around in a red wagon in our front yard. Every now and then I ran in the front door of our home on Eagle Avenue to look at the grownups. My family and some of their neighbors huddled around a Crosby radio in our living room and listened to President Franklin Delano Roosevelt say, "A day that will live in infamy." By the looks on their faces, even an eight-year old child could tell that somehow our world, as we knew it, had been shattered.
But when I heard the word, "infamy," I thought he meant that we might all have infantile paralysis, because it was such a part of our lives at that time. I remember a quick feeling of relief though. I wouldn't get infantile paralysis. It had come out on somebody's radio program that polio came from the fuzz on peach peelings. I was okay. I wouldn't eat my peaches unless somebody peeled them for me. So, I wouldn't be getting polio and have to be put in an iron lung.
Shortly afterward, our hearts bursting with patriotism, we sang, not, "Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star," or "Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf," but:
"Let's remember Pearl Harbor, as we did the Alamo.
Let's remember Pearl Harbor, as we go to fight the foe."
Those of us who were children during those years were not of the greatest generation, but because of the world situation and because of being raised by them, discipline and honesty were a way of life at home and at school. We were not allowed to be pampered and spoiled.
Of course, time marches on and sadly memories of World War II and those selfless persons are fading from our minds; but many of my generation are still humbled by what those heroes meant, not only to our country, but to the world as we know and live in it today.
December 7, 1941. A day that changed the world, and our country, forever.
Now, on down to today, 2023
Sometimes with the shifting flow of information around the virus and pandemic, the cures and hoaxes, political scandals, along with other potential military threats, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to feel, or what I'm supposed to do.
Each day we face many unknowns, but hopefully we can overlook our petty differences, become more appreciative of one another, and rally around the common good that is in most of us.
We Americans are an impulsive, imperfect people, yet in looking back at our faults, let's us also look ahead to the future and take hope, as for the most part, we are a nation of strong, compassionate people.
In our hearts we have a song:
"God Bless America,
Land that I love.
Stand beside her, and guide her,
Through the night with the light from above."
