On My Mind...
It’s hard to imagine it has been 25 years. The images are so fresh, so vivid in my mind. When I close my eyes, I can still smell the stench of the fire, dust and who knows what, filling the air. I was standing at ground zero in New York, one month after the attack on the World Trade Center. I was there as a Tulsa County Sherriff’s chaplain serving through the Port Authority Police Department. The World Trade Center was their home, their headquarters. This was personal. We were there, on the pile, when the first of the Port Authority’s officer’s body was found. I along with one of the other chaplains escorted his body to the morgue. I had never seen anything like it. Everywhere you turned, destruction, debris. Tracker trailers had been loaded and driven from the site 24/7 for a month, and yet, it look as if they hadn’t even begun. We walked the pile and felt it give reminding us we were standing on floors of debris and the fires where still burning. We worked 10-12 hours a day at ground zero. Talking with recovery workers, officers, firefighters. Hearing their stories, sharing their grief, weeping with them. I ask one firefighter, “How long have you been down here?” He said, “Every day since it happened. I have 2 uncles and three cousins buried under there. I’m not leaving until they are found.” Unlike the other chaplains who were there from around the country, who would rotate around various spots throughout the city, we were assigned ground zero (“Ground Hero” as it was known by the Port Authority) every day. There was a unique bond. Firefighters would light up when we came around, “You’re the guys from Oklahoma!” We couldn’t figure out what it was. They talked to us, opened up to us but not with others. Finally, one firefighter said, “You know what it is like to be attacked.” The Murrah Bombing. Some of them had come to Oklahoma City to assist in 1995. He went on to say, “It’s like being diagnosed with cancer. You want to talk to someone who has been there and survived.” It was an exhausting, emotionally draining, yet very rewarding experience.
It had its humorous moments as well. We came across an NYPD officer and asked about buying some NYPD gear (the authentic, rather than the tourist stuff on the street). He said, “Sure, you have your credentials they will sell to you. It’s just a 15-minute walk,” he gave us directions. 45 minutes later we finally reached the store! Little old ladies were passing us on their walkers. About an hour and a half later, I found that cop. I said, “Just for future reference, a 15-minute New York walk equals a 45-minute Oklahoma mosey!” One afternoon, while on a break there was a lively discussion with 2 New Jersey officers, a cop from Boston, a chaplain from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and 2 of us from Oklahoma. The discussion? Which of us had an accent! I said, “We’re the only 2 without one.” One of the Jersey cops said, “Yeah, but youse guys from Oklahomer talk so slow!”
I would not trade that time in New York for anything. Looking back a couple of things come to mind:
There is such a thing as evil. We live in a fallen, sin-cursed world. While the evidence is all around us and we witness it daily, there are those times when pure evil is in full public view. That day in New York City, in Washington D.C. and in a field in Pennsylvania the world witnessed genuine evil. Lives lost, families devastated, a nation wounded.
Heartache and pain have a wonderful power to unite. A nation came together. Even politicians crossed the aisle to unite on the capitol steps in a sign of unity. First responders from around the county united in New York to serve. Business sent supplies, school children sent drawings and words of encouragement, a city united around embattled police and firefighters. A chaplain from Oklahoma held an exhausted, weeping firefighter in his arms while he mourned the loss of family and brother firefighters buried under the rubble.
Presence is often more powerful than words. We always feel the need to speak. We need to say something. I want to encourage but I don’t know what to say. Don’t say anything. Just be there. Listen. Weep. A person in trauma doesn’t need a lecture. A person in trauma is not ready to hear; they just need to know they are not alone.
Life goes on. Life goes on even if yours doesn’t. When you experience the loss of a loved one your life is forever altered but that’s not true for those around you. They experience loss as well, but not to the degree that it affects you. It is not that they are cold or uncaring, but they have responsibilities, jobs, family obligations and they move on. Don’t be upset or angry with them. Your life will go on too. It will never be the same. You will never forget and no, the pain never really goes away. Your life will get back to normal, but it will be a “new normal.” Your normal will forever carry your loss. It is and will forever remain part of you.
Well, that’s what is on my mind as we approach the 25th anniversary of 9-11.
I hope you to see you Sunday as we continue our walk through the book of Acts and look at the Apostle’s Creed on Sunday evening.
Have a blessed week and I’ll see you Sunday.
Rod
It had its humorous moments as well. We came across an NYPD officer and asked about buying some NYPD gear (the authentic, rather than the tourist stuff on the street). He said, “Sure, you have your credentials they will sell to you. It’s just a 15-minute walk,” he gave us directions. 45 minutes later we finally reached the store! Little old ladies were passing us on their walkers. About an hour and a half later, I found that cop. I said, “Just for future reference, a 15-minute New York walk equals a 45-minute Oklahoma mosey!” One afternoon, while on a break there was a lively discussion with 2 New Jersey officers, a cop from Boston, a chaplain from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and 2 of us from Oklahoma. The discussion? Which of us had an accent! I said, “We’re the only 2 without one.” One of the Jersey cops said, “Yeah, but youse guys from Oklahomer talk so slow!”
I would not trade that time in New York for anything. Looking back a couple of things come to mind:
There is such a thing as evil. We live in a fallen, sin-cursed world. While the evidence is all around us and we witness it daily, there are those times when pure evil is in full public view. That day in New York City, in Washington D.C. and in a field in Pennsylvania the world witnessed genuine evil. Lives lost, families devastated, a nation wounded.
Heartache and pain have a wonderful power to unite. A nation came together. Even politicians crossed the aisle to unite on the capitol steps in a sign of unity. First responders from around the county united in New York to serve. Business sent supplies, school children sent drawings and words of encouragement, a city united around embattled police and firefighters. A chaplain from Oklahoma held an exhausted, weeping firefighter in his arms while he mourned the loss of family and brother firefighters buried under the rubble.
Presence is often more powerful than words. We always feel the need to speak. We need to say something. I want to encourage but I don’t know what to say. Don’t say anything. Just be there. Listen. Weep. A person in trauma doesn’t need a lecture. A person in trauma is not ready to hear; they just need to know they are not alone.
Life goes on. Life goes on even if yours doesn’t. When you experience the loss of a loved one your life is forever altered but that’s not true for those around you. They experience loss as well, but not to the degree that it affects you. It is not that they are cold or uncaring, but they have responsibilities, jobs, family obligations and they move on. Don’t be upset or angry with them. Your life will go on too. It will never be the same. You will never forget and no, the pain never really goes away. Your life will get back to normal, but it will be a “new normal.” Your normal will forever carry your loss. It is and will forever remain part of you.
Well, that’s what is on my mind as we approach the 25th anniversary of 9-11.
I hope you to see you Sunday as we continue our walk through the book of Acts and look at the Apostle’s Creed on Sunday evening.
Have a blessed week and I’ll see you Sunday.
Rod