Like most bloggers on this fifth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, I'm writing about that fateful day. Unlike many Americans, I refuse to ignore the photos, the footage, and the bad memories of the attacks. Those who willfully try to bury it so that they can "heal" are in terrible error, the kind of error that will guarantee defeat in what is really a massive cultural war. I've heard it said that Islamic fundamentalists are a small minority of Muslims, with a conservative estimate of ten percent (likely more). So, what is ten percent of 1.2 billion? That's over
one hundred million. This is a war they started long ago and one that will drag on for decades if it continues to stay a low level war. So we must look at those pictures of still living people jumping and falling from the WTC towers, we must look at the wounded and maimed at the embassy bombings, and we must remember if we are to prevail!
Five years ago, my family was preparing to take my mother to the clinic to try to get to the root of her breathing problems. At the time, I couldn't drive and neither could she, so it was up to my dad to be the sole provider of transportation. So there was milling about, as trips to La Crosse were all day affairs with shopping wedged into the schedule. We turned on the DirecTV receiver and tuned into the CBS affiliate we got from satellite. At that time it was the one in New York City and they were showing live footage of the World Trade Center. Apparently a small plane had flown into one of the towers and it was being called an accident. I said it was probably a terrorist attack, as there had been talk of them using private planes loaded with explosives for some time. For some years I'd been keeping track of Islamic terrorists and the failed Millennium plot, the attack on the U.S.S. Cole, and the assassination of the Northern Alliance warlord Massoud a few days earlier had my antenna up. Right away, Osama Bin Laden came to mind with his obsession at destroying the towers being well known.
As we were watching the live footage with the airheaded anchors babbling on, I saw a jet streak into the other tower. I said "That was another plane." Then I began ranting at the idiots on air to shut up and roll back the tape, while telling my parents another plane had hit the WTC. I knew it was Bin Laden and that the first plane hadn't been a small one like they'd said. We watched a little longer and I knew we were at war, one that probably would last the rest of my life.