Previously Published in the Pow Wow

I remember exactly when and where I was the moment I heard the news. This will be the moment I'm sure all of us will reflect upon when the anniversary of Sept. 11, 2001 reminds us of our worst fears.

I was on the third floor of the ULM Administration Building when a friend of mine told me what was happening. And as we watched the news flash across her pager in that math class, I wondered how I could be sitting here and how this teacher could still be going on about statistics.

After class, I found the big screen television in the SUB and watched with a crowd larger than could be found in any classroom, in more silence than in any funeral, we watched as the first tower fell.

I don't believe anyone in that room has ever felt more helpless than they did at that moment. I remember watching the people around me almost as much as I watched the screen. I saw the terror I felt in my heart reflected in their faces. Never in my life had I felt as I did that day. Sadness should never be mixed with helplessness and served with fear.

I went home to find my father there. He is a Vietnam veteran and surely had seen worse things in his life. I wanted to see his face and maybe figure out my own reactions that I didn't know how to deal with at the time. But what I found was my father sitting quietly outside. I sat with him, just as quiet, and realized that he too was unsure of how to react.

A man who saw fear face to face at my age, instead of on live reports, was answering my unspoken question of, "How should I feel, Daddy?" with silence. A man who has seen the worst was silenced by what we all saw. Now, for certain, I was completely unsure of my emotions.

One year later, as we approach the day that has forever changed its place on the calendar, I cannot separate my mixed feelings.

Sometimes I feel, like many others, that I should scream for retribution. Demand justice no matter how violent. Then I realize it would not make us any better than those who gave their lives just to change ours. And in that process, we would lose even more people. We would be changing the lives of our soldiers by forcing them to witness the terrors of war that my father has seen.

So, the task those bombers were trying to accomplish continues-taking away our freedom, and slowly, as we progress even further into war, taking away more American lives. Not only those lives that will be killed in action, but the lives that will be forever haunted with the remembrance of war.

I should be used to not having the answer to everything by now. But usually there is someone who knows or can at least give some comforting explanation. Not this time. Still, no answer satisfies what I want to know.

Sometimes, I still feel like I'm sitting quietly outside with my father. Hoping he understands the emotions better than I do.