Merging Into the Solemn Procession
By Patrick Sturm, Coastal Dunes Branch
The one-mile drive to work usually took five minutes, but when I saw hundreds of cars waiting to get inside, I realized that joining the throng would have been futile. And so, on my bicycle I darted through the solemn procession until reaching the front gate where I was stopped by a sentry.
I served in the Navy on a staff with 11 servicemen and women, but due to my proximity to the base, I was the only one to man the office for the rest of the week after the September 11th attacks. No one visited the office and phone calls were infrequent, and so all I could do was watch the news reports on the television as our country writhed wounded on the ground as the result of the mysterious terrorist attacks. Wearing my uniform that day seemed meaningless because there was nothing I could do to help.
The President of the United States was criticized by many when he merely sat still after being informed of the attacks, however when the political rancor came to a temporary halt many applauded him for his pensive response to the disaster. Unless you discover that you are in a burning building or see people who need first aid, statistics indicate that one is better off assessing a situation (in a timely manner) instead of rushing out into the street amidst confusion and falling debris.
I learned while painfully gazing at the rubble of September 11th to prayerfully plot out my response to a catastrophe instead of impulsively shooting from the hip and wasting much needed energy. I am often puzzled as to why we must experience so much suffering and pain; however, I have come to believe that sometimes tough times occur in order to help us to realize who or what is our source of strength in the midst of disaster.
Authors throughout the ages have written about similar dilemmas and have challenged their readers to search deeper within themselves. And that’s how it worked out for me. On September 12th a caller invited me to take part in a local September 11th Memorial Service. As I began to work on my speech I naturally reflected upon my initial sense of helplessness and realized that was how the vast majority of the American public felt. And even the time spent in front of the television in an empty office allowed me the space needed to process a catharsis. The catharsis distilled my feelings, the facts and even the scuttlebutt that I was hearing from other Sailors. As a result, I slowly began to feel a profound sense of peace. By faith I realized that somehow out of the manmade rubble, God would create something new, and that people would eventually find renewal. On the other hand, I was still mystified as to why 2,977 innocent victims had to die because of humanity’s continued struggle to understand people whose culture and appearance was different from their own.
It has been 20 years since my retirement from the military yet the fond memories along with the battles and struggles I once witnessed continue to live on in my thoughts and dreams. They will forever be like fresh laid paint that shall never dry.