Letters to the Editor

September 11, 2001

Editor's Note: This poem was first published on the anniversary of 9/11 last year.

Woke up that morning to start the day

Got ready as usual, then left on my way

Went straight to work to put in my hours

Not a thought crossed my mind about Twin Towers

The day started out going quite well

When the silence was broken, by an emotional yell

"A news flash from New York, the town has been hit"

Is this really happening? I thought, as I sit

Our enemies had hit us and hit us hard

A day we'd remember, our hearts were jarred

Tears were shed, many lives were lost

Mass destruction, endless costs

Many heroes that day, but the bravest of all

Are the ones on the plane, who decided to fall

They stood up for what they thought was right

Said their "Goodbyes" and took the plane down on sight

Now they want to take "GOD" from our Pledge of Allegiance

Do away with our Savior, Creator and Strength? Doesn't make sense

Those who don't like it, have freedom to leave

But don't try to change us from what we believe

These are the things that make America strong

Makes "God Bless America" a meaningful song

America is stronger; our faith bought us through

God Bless America and the red, white and blue.

--Submitted by

Barbara Ivey

A Sept. 11 memory from former Tribune reporter Michael Pommier:

I was sitting in my chemistry class during my junior year at Northeast High School when the math teacher from across the hall stuck his head in the door and asked my teacher to speak to him for a minute. She didn't close the door, so we could only hear her side of the conversation. We heard her say in a very calm voice, "You're joking ... I don't believe you ... Lt me go see for myself."

A few minutes later she returned to the classroom and we asked what was going on. Still calm if it wasn't a big deal, she said, "America is being attacked, someone flew a plane into the World Trade Center."

At this time, our class work became insignificant and the hallways were filled with a one-way flow of students and teachers out to the commons area where there was a small television that was only on to show the news. We saw for ourselves the news coverage of the smoke billowing out of the buildings with our jaws on the ground.

The rest of the day was pretty much a blur because the only thing I was thinking was how lucky I was to be living in little Franklin, Kan., where something so unthinkable would never happen. I remember lying in bed that night, with the images of the day's events burned into my memory. My oldest brother was standing in the doorway and I asked him what he thought about everything, if he thought it was as serious as they were making it out to be on the news. He said, "I don't Michael, I just don't know."

My father's generation had the Kennedy assassination as their "I remember what I was doing when ..." moment; my grandfather's generation had the bombing of Pearl Harbor; it didn't take long for me to know that 9/11 was my generation's moment to remember.