Seventeen years ago, on a picture perfect September morning, four planes took off into the beautiful blue morning sky never to return to an airport again. Nineteen men aboard these planes were set on a suicide mission to use these jets, full of passengers, as weapons of mass destruction against innocent civilians. Three planes hit their mark, one into each tower of the World Trade Center in Manhattan, NY, completely destroying the towers, and one into the Pentagon in Washington D.C. The fourth plane crashed into the Western Pennsylvania countryside. Almost 3000 people lost their lives that fateful day in September, in one of the most egregious acts of aggression our country has ever seen. It seemed as if we all suffered loss that infamous day, if not the loss of a friend or loved one, then the loss of naivety and a sense of security. Though terrorism was nothing new around the world, that day it became real to those of us who call the United States home. Shortly thereafter, a new phase arose in our nation’s vocabulary- “The War on Terror;” a war that has continued for seventeen years and still seems to have no end in sight.
Grace Notes Blog Posts
The airport in the capital city of our adopted country is an interesting place to meet a certain brand of foreigner traveler: contractors, diplomats and para-military, normally single and alone, attracted by the high salaries or adventurous experiences offered here. "Milo" (not his real name) sat down next to a colleague and myself while we were waiting to board the next flight. I was tired and ready for a break, not in the mood for conversations with strangers. But God had an appointment lined up.