A Memory That Should Still Be Vivid
By Jim Shepherd

For many of you, the time you spend reading these few words this morning will be in advance of 8:46AM -10:28AM. You will, in fact, be reading before the true anniversary of the September 11, 2001 attacks that let 3,017 people dead in flaming ruins in New York City, Arlington, Virginia and a field near Shanksville, Pennsylvania.

For that reason, it's not too-late to spend a minute in remembrance of those people who died. They were from 90 different countries, and for most of them, their only crime was going to work.

In the days immediately after 9/11, I don't think I've ever been more proud of my country. Differences were put aside, old wounds healed, and I personally know at least four longstanding differences between old friends that were put aside and resolved. It looked like the country had been knocked back- not on its heels, but back to its roots. The indomitable American spirit reemerged, turning the country into a single, unified presence. For the first time in years, I wasn't worried about potential problems, my mind was focused on family and friends today- not long-term planning.

On the first anniversary, I remember how vividly the event was replayed into the public consciousness. Replayed to the point that some television networks actually rebroadcast that horrid morning. I don't know about you, but it wasn't a very easy anniversary for me. I still wanted to see horrific retribution visited on anyone who was remotely connected to the event.

By 9/11/2003, those bloodthirsty feelings had mellowed, but the swell of patriotic fervor hadn't.

The year following, it wasn't gone, but most of that "top of mind awareness" had started to fade. Smaller problems, closer to home were starting to crowd the memory and flush the feelings.

That's a phenomenon called incrementalism or gradualism- the same slow change that allows a frog to be slow-boiled. In this case, it's reversed, but the blood cooling and the ardor fading is the same thing.

Since September 11, 2001, it's as if the whole country has fallen victim to gradualism. Gradually, the feeling of unity faded, replaced with the same-old-partisanship that's turned politics from tough to toxic. Today, politicians are using gradualism, but they've stepped up the pace.

I guess that's what's bothering me so much on this anniversary of one of the darkest days in American history.

This September 11, if I talk about my desire to see my country safe, I'm going to be accused of being being a xenophobe.

Expressing a belief that anyone willing to work hard should advance at a level commensurate with their efforts makes me guilty of class warfare.

Being the son of a public school teacher and a maintenance foreman, I think my my first-hand experience says being willing to work harder and longer than most of your associates can get you ahead is truth; not class warfare. But there are people who want me to feel guilty because others don't have what I have.

That goes against the basic American spirit.

As an American, I have a deep-seated desire, if not a historic obligation, to help anyone less fortunate.

When I needed help, it was offered. Today, I believe that being "blessed" comes with the obligation to be a blessing to others.

When our nation was young, Benjamin Franklin loaned money to an acquaintance facing hard times. When the situation turned, the acquaintance wanted to repay Franklin. Instead, Franklin asked that he take that money and use it to help someone else in need. That is the American spirit.

But gradualism has eroded the meaning.

This afternoon at 1:15, it will be the eighth anniversary of a drive that will be etched in my memory as long as my memory functions.

On September 11, 2001, I drove out of Atlanta, Georgia toward my home and family in Birmingham, Alabama. My wife and children felt that it was important we all be together. I agreed, I had already closed my business and sent my employees home to their families.

On that drive, I saw American flags either hanging from overpasses or being waved by people standing on them. That memory evokes a tightening in my throat that isn't the least bit normal.

I remember a clear blue sky, devoid of the normal crisscrossing of jet contrails. Instead of the signs of a normal day, I saw a clear blue sky that spoke to the fact that something big had happened. So big that we might be changed as a nation forever.

Eight years later, I'm convinced that that premonition was accurate, things have, indeed, changed. Unfortunately, I'm concerned we've not changed for the better.

Like September 11, 2001, however, I remain convinced of one thing: that standing up for something good is still better than lying down to avoid being called names or being threatened- however steep the cost.

As you move through your day, I hope you'll take time to remember how you were willing to stand for your beliefs on that September 11 and realize that not standing for what you believe -every September 11- has consequences.

Stand.

Remember.