My
Twenty-Third Psalm
“Thou
preparest a table before me in the presence of my enemies.” Psalm 23:5
September 11, 2002
December 28, 2001 was an important
occasion. It was my twenty-third
birthday and also the first time I flew in an airplane since the terrorist
tragedies.
The Shadows of Death
I hesitantly planned this trip in November and, as the official take-off date
crept closer, I nearly decided to cancel the flight and catch a Greyhound. In the end, a bus would have been cheaper,
yet it would have taken two days longer to arrive at my destination. Living on a bus for half of my already short
vacation was not my idea of feeling comfortable. I was going to fly. Yet,
an internal debate and discussion raged between my logical and irrational fears
and emotions.
This hesitancy over air travel was entirely
out of character for me. I considered
myself to be a somewhat seasoned and unique traveler, as I had flown at least a
few dozen times. My last several
flights had even been international ones.
After much contemplation, I did not change my travel plans. As long as I felt afraid of flying, I
recognized that the terrorists had successfully taken away part of my
freedom. I wanted to regain that
freedom.
Despite the still recent shadows of death,
I was determined not to be fearful. I
decided that the goal of my entire trip would be to find examples of everyday
heroes, who despite their doubts, were still endeavoring to light the way as
shining examples of people who were truly proud to be Americans.
Dawn’s Early Light
At the curbside check-in, I immediately noticed additional security stops even
before dawn. Observing the steady flow
of warm bodies and rosy cheeks, I realized I had been expecting more holiday
travelers since it was only three days after Christmas.
Despite the chill in the air and the dreary
rain, I was thankful it wasn’t snowing. Inclement weather habitually increased
waiting, and the line was already longer than usual. I thought to myself that perhaps a few less holiday travelers
were not really such a bad thing.
I glanced at the individuals in line behind
me, and I suddenly had an incredibly odd feeling that made me uneasy. A calm permeated throughout the line, and
people were unusually quiet, kind, and considerate of one another. I realized then why I felt uneasy. The light chitter-chatter, banter, and
senseless conversation of annoyed travelers crowded together, was quite nearly
diminished. The chill from the rain
could not compare to the increasing chill I felt the longer I continued to wait
patiently in this line that was barely inching along.
I was imagining being inside the terminal
where it would be warmer, when a sudden thud and bump in front of me
interrupted my daydream. Two elderly
ladies had momentarily lost control of a luggage cart, which sent all half
dozen of their assorted suitcases askew, directly into my suitcase and me.
A college student, who had seen the
commotion, abandoned his place at the front of the line and came to help. He straightened my suitcase before I even
realized what had happened, and then just as quickly, he assisted the ladies
recover and rearrange their luggage.
Since all of us had nearly arrived at the front of the line, he waited
alongside the two ladies, pushing the cumbersome luggage cart for them. I watched as he lifted all of their
oversized bags onto the conveyor belt.
In parting, both ladies shook his hand,
thanked him for being such a nice young man, and offered to compensate him for
his trouble. The young man smiled and
replied, “You ladies all have a safe flight and a wonderful day…that’s payment
enough.” The ladies wished him well in
return and, we all quickly waved good-by.
I completely forgot about feeling
cold.
Bursting In Air
A well-dressed businessman in front of me was having a heated discussion with a
harried security officer. The
businessman was obviously in a rush, and he certainly was not pleased with the
information the security officer was calmly trying to explain to him. The businessman argued that he was indeed an
American citizen, and he encouraged the security officer to examine any one of
the three forms of picture identification that he had available in his
out-stretched hand. The businessman
explained there was an important meeting, and he had to catch a flight in less
than a half hour. His company had
purchased an electronic ticket for the flight, and for this reason, he did not
have an actual ticket, a receipt for a purchased ticket, or a print out of the
flight itinerary. The businessman was
convinced that he could straighten out this ridiculous misunderstanding, if
only the security guard would allow him to pass. The security officer adamantly refused, citing the businessman
lacked mandatory documentations and until he possessed such, he would not
enter.
It was difficult not to overhear this
rather loud public conversation. I was
reminded of playing Monopoly - “Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200.” The businessman was stuck precariously by
chance. The community chest of
passengers, patiently waiting in line, were all attentively straining to see if
this confrontation was resolvable. I
was anticipating hearing “Go Directly to Jail” announced over the intercom
within the next few seconds.
Despite the angry and frustrated tone of
voice that the businessman upheld throughout the conversation, the security
officer remained calm. The officer
explained that he would do whatever was necessary to ensure this traveler did
not miss that important business meeting.
A quick call by radio provided an airline assistant who would help this
businessman remedy the situation and get where he needed to be on time.
The impatient businessman was instructed to
follow the airline assistant, and as he began to do so, he stopped and put down
his suitcase. He turned around and
shook the security officer’s hand, as he said, “I’m sorry for giving you such a
hard time. Forgive me for forgetting
myself. Thank-you for all your help,
and thank-you especially for doing your job.”
As the security officer smiled, greeted
passengers, and allowed them to pass by, few noticed that he had needed a few
moments to first collect himself.
The Brave
Two handicapped passengers riding in wheelchairs were not excluded from
security checkpoints. Additional time
and security measures were necessary to maneuver the clumsy mechanical
apparatuses, as no one seemed to know what exactly to do with these
carriers.
Both frail and elderly passengers were
asked to walk through the metal detector without the aide of the wheelchairs. One of the passengers was no less than
ninety and had to be carried over the threshold because she was unable to walk
on her own. She was utterly delighted
with the hefty security guard that hoisted her up as if she were
weightless. She laughed softly about
never having had so much fun being up in the air – and she hadn’t even gotten
on the plane yet.
A small child behind me tugged at his mom’s
skirt and asked if the big man would carry him through the machine like that
too. The mother pushed her suitcases
forward and hushed the curious child without answering his concern.
The second elderly passenger insisted that
she could walk on her own, and she was determined she would proudly accomplish
this task by herself. All the previous
times she had flown, she had not been asked to get out of her wheelchair. She announced loudly that she finally had
something to do that was worth standing up for in an airport terminal. For her sake, I silently hoped that she
wasn’t wearing anything that would make the detector beep. Thankfully, it didn’t. The effort exhausted her, but she completed
the task alone. To her, a few
insignificant small steps had been a triumphant personal leap.
I doubted she would be able to accomplish
that feat again in her travels without graciously admitting she really needed
assistance.
I overheard the small child talking to his
mother again. “Are the special people
in the metal chairs going to be on the same plane as us?” His mother replied, “I’m not sure, but those
special people have special places and other special people to visit just like
everyone else here.”
We Love to Fly…and It Still Shows
At Gate A17 a television was on, but few people were watching the news
broadcast. The CNN live coverage showed
President Bush making an address to the nation about “America’s New War,”
however a busy three-year-old captivated a much larger audience in the busy
terminal.
The child wore a U.S. flag knapsack that
was strapped haphazardly across his small shoulders. A stuffed bear in a matching flag sweatshirt peeped its head out
of an opening in the sack, which had failed to be securely zippered up. He excitedly rushed over to a large bay
window and yelled, “Mommy! Daddy! Mommy! Daddy! See the big plane? We’re
going! We’re going! Up! Up!”
The child’s daddy walked over and swooped
his anxious little travel buddy into his arms.
The child yelled again, “See the big plane? We go up, right?”
His daddy kissed the boy’s cheek, then
kissed the boy’s mommy on the cheek, and said to both of them, “Yes, we sure
are. All of us.”
The speech on television drifted into
distant words with distant meanings within a contradiction of distant
contexts. The distant was temporarily
replaced by something more important, as most eyes were watching the present
tense nearness of reality that was unfolding directly before them.
The flight attendant brushed away tears as
the pilot quickly took her hand in his and mouthed the words “I love you.” Their moment of intimate reassurance was only
interrupted by their squirming 3-year-old, stating quite matter of factly, “We
go up, right?”
The pilot repeated, “We go up.” The flight attendant replied, “Right.”
The family walked hand-in-hand to the
plane. The child happily waved good-by
to a roomful of onlookers, and his cheerful voice was heard echoing the entire
length of the corridor as he repeated, “We go up! We go up! We go up!”
Conclusion
These anonymous people are all fellow Americans, and they are only a handful of
the dozens of individuals that impressed me throughout my journey. I will probably never know their names,
their families, or any other personal facts about them. I observed their actions without them ever
being aware of me, and I feel love for every single one of them.
Each was effected by the events of
September 11th in their own way, yet each also exhibited a different
view as to how a single person can play a role, no matter how seemingly small
or insignificant, in truly creating courage and hope through setting an
example.
Each of us has the chance to be an American
hero, because that gift comes from within.
When everything falls down around us, we go up, and we uplift one
another in doing so.
Copyright © 2002