In midst of tragedy, we must retain humanity

I am old enough to remember the day Kennedy was shot and exactly where I was and what I felt when I heard the news.

Now I have something else to remember.

It was just another drive to my job at one of the Valley's high tech companies on Tuesday morning job, until I turned on the radio.

The passing of my years doesn't lesson the shock of tragic news.

If anything, the wisdom of aging brings into sharp focus the horror of what must be enormous suffering on the East Coast.

At the office, I found co-workers with blank stares huddled around televisions.

Theories were stated, fears expressed and heartfelt tears fell for those directly affected.

People left work early to attend prayer services.

Worried, I went to lunch with a friend who had come to the Valley by way of New York. Her mom and dad, who live on Long Island, were safe, but her brother, a fireman, was headed into the city to help with the disaster. No one had heard from him since he left on his rescue mission.

What struck me, though, was her mentioning that she had heard people in New York were dragging cabbies of Arab descent from their taxis and beating them.

It made me think about Pearl Harbor and the treatment of innocent minorities afterward.

It made me wonder about us here in the Valley.

The Valley basketball team I coached last year included two kids of Arab descent. I remember referees and players having quick acceptance of their different dress standards when we played our games.

Would that acceptance be any less now? I worried if they would be the victim of some totally misplaced retaliation.

Back at work, the Internet was jammed, it was hard to focus, and knowing human nature, our managers sent us home.

Driving through the Valley to pick my kids up from school, I noticed that school teams still held football practice, that banks were open, that life was going on.

I also noticed an abundance of U.S. flags flying, including one nailed high on a pole on a street corner.

My youngest kids are in 8th to 10th grades. I could see in their faces the need to talk, but kids are funny. When they need to talk the most, they have the hardest time finding the words. They need time to say what's bothering them so I decided to keep our planned outing of going to the fair.

The fair was pretty sparsely attended. One stand operator told me business was one-tenth of what it had been on Monday, usually the slowest day of the fair's run.

Some things came off as normal. Bands played, magicians amazed little kids, and booth attendants hawked their wares, but there just wasn't the festive air of a normal day at the fair.

There were some pleasant surprises. The Elvis act opened with the Star Spangled Banner and it wasn't cheesy at all.

It felt good inside to hear it and like me, people cheered upon the song's completion.

But sitting in the stands to watch the pig races, looking across the infield to see a lady reading a newspaper with the banner headline "U.S. Attacked" just made everything seem surreal.

My kids and I talked as we walked the fair. They expressed their fears about their brother possibly being recalled from the Army Reserve, the classmates' dads who were recalled to Fairchild, and are we safe in Spokane?

Sometimes dads are like priests. We're in the listen-and-comfort business.

As I was driving my kids home, I noticed I was passing the home of one of the young basketball players I was worried about.

I didn't see him shooting hoops in front of his house like I often do, but I did notice something I hope everyone else saw: The U.S. flag flying from the front of their home.

Later that night, I heard a caller on a local radio station express the thought that we shouldn't just catch the perpetrators of such a heinous act, that we should make sure they are tortured as well.

We did lose some innocence in this tragedy, but we don't have to lose our humanity.

Justice, yes. Prayer, yes. Support, yes.

Ignorance, blind retaliation, and acting out our inner fears? We just have to do better than that.

Copyright 2001 Cowles Publishing Company
Provided by ProQuest Information and Learning Company. All rights Reserved.