Six years ago yesterday, on September tenth, I was a little younger, had a little less gray hair, and a few fewer inches on my waist. My daughter suffered from an attention deficit disorder of some sort. We took her to Tacoma to see a specialist. Afterwards, we drove to a nearby strip mall to shop. I remember watching the large military aircraft from McCord Air Force Base that would pass over every few minutes. The mammoth plane engines screamed overhead. I remember looking up at the planes amazed by their close proximity to us on the ground.
Pictures of the Kids
We took the kids to Chuck E. Cheese. We played together. We laughed. It was a small but significant time for us. Near the front of the restaurant sat a particular toy ride, a little car with Chuck in the passenger seat. A child could sit in the driver seat, right next to their good ol' pal Chuck. Parents would put tokens or tickets in the car and it would take a picture of their child. We put the kids in the car, one at a time. The machine took their picture. The machine spit out the picture on a roll. We ripped the picture from the roll, stuffed it in a complementary Chuck E. Cheese cup and left for home. Back at home, I scanned the picture into the computer that very night, though I'm not sure why. I curled up in bed and fell asleep quite easily. The next day, Tuesday the eleventh, was back to work, school and the grind. It would also be a day even more memorable than the previous.
Tuesday the Eleventh
Six years ago, the eleventh of September fell on a Tuesday, just as has this year. I remember where I was when the planes hit the two towers. At the time, I did not know any planes were hitting anything anywhere, nor did most people in America. I was not thinking about planes. I could barely keep my eyes open. I had just arrived in downtown Seattle. It was 5:30 am Pacific time. Somehow I had managed to get out of bed early to catch that boat to work. Yawn. Stretch. I logged on at work. I remember typing
www.msnbc.com
into my Internet Explorer address bar. No page came up. Site unavailable, it said. Huh, I shrugged. Must be some sort of network slowdown. I didn't know about the hundreds of thousands if not millions of people trying to get updates on the events in New York, Washington D.C. and Pennsylvania, which effectively brought the news site and many others to their knees. I remember when my boss hung up the phone with a business associate in New York, saying that the twin towers had collapsed. Collapsed!? Two employees from our parent company were visiting our Seattle office. They worked in downtown New York. Every morning, they exited the subway tunnel below the towers on their way to work. Even though I was somewhat of a world away, and had never been to New York City, D.C. or rural Pennsylvania, I felt like I had just been gut punched. I didn't fall asleep easily that night.
Finding Forgotten Pictures
A couple years later, I found myself browsing through pictures on my computer. I happened upon two pictures taken at a Chuck E. Cheese in Tacoma. I looked at my kids. I marveled at how easily I could remember the day of the month and even the year that we'd taken those pictures. I gazed at them, marveled by their youth and innocence. To me those pictures represented America on Monday, September tenth, 2001. The next day, I think we all aged a few years.
Another September
A hundred and fifty years ago today, in a mountain meadow, southwest of Cedar City, Utah another act of terror took place. Frequently referred to as The Mountain Meadows Massacre, some 50 or 60 militiamen, most if not all of them member of the LDS Church, aided by otherwise peaceful Paiute Indians, attacked and killed approximately 120 emigrants. I have not studied the history of this incident in detail. I have read some articles from various sources. It seems unfathomable that men who thought themselves Christians would or could carry out such an atrocity let alone think of doing it.
Brigham Didn't Know
I do not know whether Brigham Young had any inkling as to what transpired AS it transpired, but in my heart, I know Brigham to be a just an equitable man who was slow to wrath and quick to forgiveness. He had endured severe, personal persecution for his choice to be a part of the early organization of the Church along with countless others. He was a pacifist, not a war-monger.
Local Vigilantism
I believe that this event was carried out by local authorities who were also part of the local Church leadership. To those familiar and unfamiliar with the LDS Church's structure this may be irrelevant, but a Mormon stake president condoning such a thing is not the same thing as the President of the Mormon Church conspiring or condoning the act. This was not the Bishop of Rome calling for extermination of all non-Christians. This murderous act was not sanctioned by the God of the Mormons, by their leaders, or any God. If anything it was an act of cowardice, carried out by those beguiled by him who opposes all good. The men who carried this out were acting on their own, and by this act abandoned all that is good and of good report. How the few who dreamed up the scheme managed to convince the other fifty to sixty to participate is beyond reckoning.
Silence and Forgiveness
Isn't it ironic that one of the core intentions of the perpetrators was to silence the emigrants; to keep them quiet. Now, as we mark the hundred and fiftieth anniversary of this tragedy, I think we could all agree that we've had anything but silence, but that's what I hope we have this Tuesday the eleventh. No breaking news. No screaming headlines or screaming children. No blip on the radar screen. How might we have this silence? Is it even attainable? I think so, to some degree. We could all do a little better, don't you think? I would hope that as we reflect back on these September days and others that will inevitably follow, that we will find room for forgiveness in our hearts. Hatred, intolerance, and unforgiving hearts are at the root of these terrorist acts. We all need forgiveness in our lives; a forgiving heart as well as forgiveness from our neighbors. The guilty who are unrepentant must atone for their sins. They will pay that ransom. I'm sure that many of the men who acted so violently against their neighbor, if given a second chance at that September eleventh, would have chosen to stay in bed and sleep easily.
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