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Monday, September 12, 2011

The Apathetic Patriot


"Oh my God! The second tower has just been hit, too." Those were the first words that I heard on September 11, 2001. I reached over and hit the snooze button. I had worked late the night before and wasn't ready to wake up. I went back to sleep before the words could penetrate.

Growing up, I lived in a house that flew an American flag. The flagpole had a bronzed bald eagle perched atop of it. When it rained, my father would ask me to bring it inside and wrap its waterproof material around itself. I would bring it in and lean it against a wall underneath prints of Abraham Lincoln and the Last Supper.
The radio came back to life. "Flames are shooting out of the same windows that people are jumping from. It is pure chaos. I have never seen anything like this." I cracked my left eye open, looking at the time. Not ready to move, I listened to the radio as it told me of two airplanes that had flown into the sides of the twin towers in New York City. I thought of War of the Worlds.
I didn't have a T.V. set that allowed me to watch the news, so I went across the hall. "Holy shit!! Did you see this? Ragan asked me. I watched as the buildings collapsed. I watched as ash and cinder fell from the sky like rain. I watched as thousands died. I watched until I had to go to class.
Tears fell around me as I maintained a stoic face.
As I walked into my lecture, there was a somber mood in the air. A typically vocal auditorium was quiet. People didn't know how to act. They looked around watching others, whispering to those that were sitting next to them. Rabbi Holstein was a favorite religion professor whose classes were filled because of his liberal use of the word "fuck" and his knowledge of the Bible. Though small in stature, he was an intimidating and vocal man.
"I spent fifteen years of my life in New York City," he started. "This morning, I..." he stopped, choking on his words. Wincing, he lowered his head and turned away from the class. As he composed himself, he took his hand away from his face and addressed the class once more. "I can never trust a man that cries," he said. His cheeks were flushed, and a tear slid down his face. "I will see you next week."
I was ostracized for not displaying a "United We Stand" flag by the same people that, the week before, refused to remove their hat or stand for the National Anthem. I had never been to New York before, and I didn't know anybody who lived there. I was accused of being heartless for not mourning the deaths of people that I didn't know, by those who didn't know about the thousands who died in the floods in El Salvador or those who were killed by suicide bombers in the Middle East. I wasn't patriotic.

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