Monday, September 11, 2017

     It is September 11, 2017. Those of us who just endured the most terrifying storm of our life are reminded that this was second to what happened to our country 16 years ago. Terror was a very small word that day. Actually there were no words for that day. I remember it well, and I wasn’t there. My friend was. I’m sure she relives it every year. God bless all those who lost loved ones—those whose lives have never been nor ever will be the same. 

     They couldn’t call the insurance company to repair their loss. They wished that all they had to do was call the tree guys to come and lift the tree off their lanai. They wished they
could have simply called the cage repair guy to come replace a screen. They wished they could hug their spouse and kids and breathe a sigh of relief. No, they didn’t and don’t have that luxury. Strange, how things take on a different spin when we frame them in certain ways.

     September 11th is a day that will go down in history—a day that changed the lives of all Americans. September 10th is a day that many of us in Florida will remember as harrowing, terrifying, but almost all of us have someone to hug when the sun comes up this morning.

     I am not calling “Irma” a trifle by any means, but for myself, I am putting her in her proper place in the grand scheme of catastrophes. Like 9/11, however, Americans are coming together in Florida as they did in Texas to help one another, and that’s what America is all about.