The Terrible Flights

Photo: AP Wide World Photos/William Kratzke, Sharing Authorized/Fair Use Claimed

Greetings All:

Thirteen years ago today was the last "normal" morning in America.  On a day that began sunny and bright and with a few folks tired (and likely hung over) from watching the Monday Night Football game soon switched to one of disbelief...then horror.

9/11 as this day is known is the day of the terrible flights.  Four jets were hijacked by a handful of miserable cowards who murdered thousands of innocent people.  The day became our generation's JFK assassination and Pearl Harbor.  

The following is a poem I put together that are my thoughts on today's anniversary.  It's my way of remembering the events and legacy of the day of the terrible flights.

The Terrible Flights

It was a Tuesday morning, sunny and bright,

The day of those terrible flights.

Two in New York, one in DC,

And for a moment it knocked us to our knees.

Yet from a fourth flight passengers fought back,

Victims no more, they began a counter-attack.

Storming the cockpit, fighting for control,

Their call of action, “Let’s roll!”

From ruined buildings smoke did rise,

A burning cloud choked the skies.

Stunned and speechless we watched TV,

Struggling to understand how this could be?

Now thirteen years later we ponder this day,

Of souls perished, and “normal” stripped away.

Far from home our troops were sent,

Where talent, blood and treasure was spent.

Thirteen years later, children have grown,

With parental memories distant or unknown.

Never again will they see that smile.

And there will be no walk down the aisle.

Soul mates perished on this day,

The surviving spouse nobly keeping grief at bay.

Some found happiness again,

For others, from love they shall always abstain.

As we honor those who fell,

We ask ourselves, of this day, what should we tell.

Tell our children, tell ourselves,

Do we go to the history books on the shelves?

Or is today best observed,

By recalling how we have preserved,

Preserved the memory of those lost,

Preserved the true accounting of this cost.

If so, then we’ve met our task,

No more of us should history ask.

We’ve paid honor, we’ve done right,

To those lost the day of those terrible flights.

Be well my friends,

Jeno

Full photo source:

http://nymag.com/news/articles/wtc/gallery/ 
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