In 4 days it will have been 20 years since the tragedy of 9/11. Over the weekend I watched several documentaries. Remembering what we were doing on that day is something I’m sure we all share in common. Many of you are old enough to remember other tragedies; some of you too young to remember the impact of this one. There’s a sense of guilt I feel that I became absorbed in watching these personal interviews of survivors. To all of the victims and their families, my heart still bleeds for your loss. The aftershock and waves of sorrow that still impacts these victims are indescribable. So many died as heroes. And many heroes still live.

I was only 31 and responsible for leading a primary school. One teacher had a husband working at the Pentagon. Several parents had pilot spouses. Parents were coming in droves to pick up their children (including the preschool we had about 550 students). That night, probably like you, I couldn’t wrap my head around the attacks. But I hugged my boys very tight as I was glued to my T.V. Praying to God for leadership direction in the aftershocks. The fall of the towers and the vulnerability felt led to major personal changes. How did your life change?

My space here is not to create political or religious division. The poem I wrote below this past Saturday was not born from anything but love. For in the end that’s all that matters. Love.

One Fall Day

Religion became hate
and violence their norm.
The Cold War had ended,
new terrorists formed.

The West gripped their greed
and lived life based on things,
an enemy was planning
their terror using wings.

We all watched in horror
as the towers burned and fell.
We were stricken with grief.
It was a living hell.

Sisters, brothers,
husbands, wives,
Mothers, Fathers,
So many lives.

The shock of the loss
and the vulnerability felt,
made us close to our maker,
on knees we all knelt.

My tears wouldn't stop.
I hugged my sons so tight.
In my own tiny world,
that's all that felt right. 

Borders are created
by skin and beliefs,
religion, and politics,
is there any relief?

Terrorism since then
has been even homegrown.
Attacks on each other,
some alone and unknown.

Our weapons of choice
can be held in our hands.
In a text, hug, or wave
we declare our own lands.

Don't forget the days
that our innocent have died.
Turn your trust to God,
it's the only right side. 


K.L. Hale