Another September 11th

GWOT Memorial
Photo Credit: National Infantry Museum

I am not the most eloquent person you’ll ever meet – not by a long shot – but I hope and pray that today I will be able to communicate what’s on my heart in a way that carries the honor the subject matter deserves.

As I begin my story, my mind goes back to Sept 11, 2001. I don’t have to rehearse the events of the day for you. You have your own memories. Like me, you were going about your normal routine when someone called you or you walked by the television or the radio broadcast was interrupted. We were living our normal lives and suddenly were thrust into a world of terror and then a war on terror. Maybe, also like me, you thought it would all be handled quickly. After all, we’d learned so much from the Gulf War – or so we thought. (Don’t give up on me here – this is not going political.) Here we sit on the anniversary of the attack on the World Trade Center seventeen years later, still immersed in the Global War on Terror (GWOT).

This past weekend, I had the honor and privilege of attending the Rededication of the GWOT Memorial at the National Infantry Museum. The memorial was initially dedicated last year and bears the names of over 6900 service members killed in action as a direct result of the GWOT. Sadly, 28 new names were added this year. And truly, if you haven’t seen the memorial, you owe it to yourself to visit.

Leading up to the weekend, I had someone comment that it seemed like such a sad thing to attend. And you know? It is. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t go. Men and women are still dying and I think we tend to forget. And we must not allow that to happen. One of the great fears I heard communicated by the parents, wives, brothers and sisters of these fallen service members is that their loved ones will be forgotten. We must remember.

Some people may think this memorial is just for the Army or even more specifically the Infantry. Not true. This memorial lists all the names from all the services in chronological order. This year alone, a minimum of 7 of the 28 new names were those of Air Force members.  We sat with their families. We heard their stories. My husband is retired Air Force. And while I’ve never had to face the shock these family members have faced, I remember getting a call from my husband telling me he was “o.k.” the morning after the air war began in the Gulf War, 1990. He had been waiting to take off in Dharan, Saudi Arabia the moment the air war began. I can’t identify with their pain and loss, but I know the fears around the duty. My son is in training as an Army aviator and has already deployed once. My son-in-law deploys in the near future. My other son is a police officer. I live with those fears on a fairly regular basis, but I have determined I will not be controlled by them.

Representing the Twin Towers with a beam from FDNY
Photo Credit: National Infantry Museum

What I learned this weekend is that these family members were simply living their normal lives when their worlds were turned upside down. They were each innocently going about life when the car and the uniforms arrived at the door. I learned that the rest of us – those untouched by tragedies like this – blunder our way through feeble attempts to comfort. One suggestion was that we develop 6 meaningful questions to ask rather than simply say “I’m sorry for your loss”. This person told me that Vice President Pence asked “When did you speak with your loved one last?” and that meant a great deal to her. I learned that those left behind want to speak of their son, daughter, husband, wife. The people I met have a special bond with the military units. I learned that we all need to be sure – very sure – our wills and insurance policies are up to date. I learned that I am grossly inadequate at conveying my sadness for their loss.

Photo Credit: National Infantry Museum

I witnessed great strength and immense love this weekend. I listened as a woman recounted her love for her husband, his death and the birth of their baby, now 8 months old. I met the Gambles - people that come from right up the road and know my brother in law. Mr. Gambles’ son was killed in 2007 – 22 years old. I hugged. I cried. I gave thanks. For duty. For sacrifice. For my kids.

 Today we face another September 11^th. I am reminded that the GWOT memorial has blank spaces on the granite for more names. The war is not over as you may think. Men and women are still out there sacrificing. I wish you could hear the stories I heard. The way some gave their own lives to save their fellow service members. I’ll willingly feel sad and shed tears to honor those who no longer can and sit with those who bear the pain of loss every day.