September 11, Palm Coast, FL, via New York City and Washington, DC --
This morning, my world was shattered. This afternoon, as I my eyes scanned this town, its streets, trees, and birds, nothing looked different, yet everything had changed. Savagery and craziness hit two of my country's most prominent cities, one of which I lived in for nearly 30 years before coming to prosaic Palm Coast.
The rules governing our lives have been transformed. I've read about and known how tragically those changes have manifested themselves in other parts of the world. I marveled, without comprehension, at the culture and mindset of suicide bombers. Of course, that was standard fare with World War II kamikaze pilots against military targets, but that was before my time and I could easily dismiss it in my psyche. I can dismiss it no longer.
Now I know virtually firsthand how absurd such violence can be. No longer is this a horrific newspaper story about abominations in a faraway land. This is happening in my land, my country, and my house.
We're all stunned and can only wonder how long we'll stay that way. We're also angry and can only imagine how we, as a people, will respond to that emotion.
September 12, Palm Coast --
A fitful night's sleep didn't help. I'm still preoccupied and consumed by yesterday's attacks. My strongest emotion is needfulness, wanting to understand.
Was this attack caused by a very small fringe element of the Muslim world? Or will we learn, as we did after the Oklahoma City bombing, that the terrorists were domestic? Early signs, though, point clearly towards foreign nationals.
I know of the turmoil in the Middle East and the philosophical differences between peoples, and cultures, and religions. I know threats have been made. But I never thought something like this could happen. I could never envision this magnitude of depravity and murder of peaceful citizens -- and children. Oh God, the poor children.
My mind aches trying to reconcile how some people believe as strongly in their beliefs that God rewards such barbarism as I believe that God condemns it. Maybe some would say that the United States, the Great Satan, did that same thing when we dropped atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. As much as I understand and support our ultimate motives and the circumstances surrounding that war and the Japanese military culture, I still cringe at the effect of our actions on women and children in those cities.
I wonder. Where's God? Who's side is he on? In one way, as our parent, he must be on both sides. He loves us all. He allows us to be responsible for what we do. We've been attacked and we'll retaliate against somebody someday. It may not be immediate, but it will occur. It'll be justified, but it'll justify our enemies' counterattack, our response, another counterattack, another response, and so on. Will God approve?
Tonight's special prayer ceremony at church helped, but only a little. The pastor said that at these times the church shouldn't preach. It should only pray. And pray we did. We prayed for the dead and wounded, the rescued and rescuers, the leaders and followers. And we prayed for whom it is most difficult to pray -- our enemies who committed these hideous acts and their supporters who were dancing in the streets over our pain and suffering.
Our country will prevail. We will respond. We will exact what we believe is appropriate retribution. It may not be God's way, but it's the only way we, his children, know at this stage in our moral and spiritual development.
I was struck by the words from one particular hymn at the prayer service. It spoke of qualities we must possess to get through this crisis and its aftermath.
"That I may love what thou dost love and do what thou wouldst do."
May God be with us all.
++++
Fred W. Apelquist, III, M.Ed.
Approximately 660 words.
(C) September 2001