(from Blue Star Moms:) The third Friday of the month of September is set aside each year to pay honor and respect to those of our country’s military that have been or are prisoners of war or missing in action. POW/MIA Recognition Day is an excellent time to also concentrate our prayers on the lives of these courageous service personnel and the families left behind who wait for them.
Lives are unimaginably changed when a loved one is held captive or is reported as missing. Hearts and lives are comforted when they know people care and are praying for them. Those held captive too ~ what more would they endure if they thought we didn’t remember them?
Gratefully, the Prisoner of War/Missing in Action Corridor at the Pentagon was opened on September 15 of this year, presenting to the public many of the pieces that tell the story of these families and warriors. Families of MIA and former POW themselves have given personal items and input for the development of this.
This year, will you pray with me for these families and all the others who have endured so much for our freedoms? The date for the 2010 POW/MIA Recognition Day is Friday, September 17th. Sadly, there have been well over 88,000 missing Americans since WW II.
I hear people saying we don’t need this war
I say there’s some things worth fighting for
What about our freedom and this piece of ground?
We didn’t get to keep ‘em by backing down
They say we don’t realize the mess we’re getting in
Before you start preaching
Let me ask you this my friend
Have you forgotten how it felt that day
To see your homeland under fire
And her people blown away?
Have you forgotten when those towers fell?
We had neighbors still inside
Going through a living hell
And you say we shouldn’t worry ’bout Bin Laden
Have you forgotten?
They took all the footage off my T.V.
Said it’s too disturbing for you and me
It’ll just breed anger that’s what the experts say
If it was up to me I’d show it every day
Some say this country’s just out looking for a fight
After 9/11 man I’d have to say that’s right
I’ve been there with the soldiers
Who’ve gone away to war
And you can bet they remember
Just what they’re fighting for
Have you forgotten all the people killed?
Some went down like heroes in that Pennsylvania field
Have you forgotten about our Pentagon?
All the loved ones that we lost
And those left to carry on
Don’t you tell me not to worry about Bin Laden
Have you forgotten?
Darryl Worley/Wynn Varble, 2003
CLICK ON THIS LINK TO READ/SIGN LETTER TO PRESIDENT OBAMA ON HIS USING CIVILIAN COURT SYSTEM IN NYC TO PROSECUTE 9/11 CONSPIRATORS:
Carl Flickinger considered his work hours at Cantor Fitzgerald to be one of the job’s biggest benefits. Though he started at 7 a.m., he was home by 6:30 p.m. with his family in Congers in Rockland County.
Mr. Flickinger, 38, slid comfortably into domestic routines. Every Saturday, he shopped for groceries before taking his 11-year-old twin sons to the mall for new sneakers or jeans. In the evening, he checked his sons’ homework and read to his 5-year-old daughter. On and off the job, he drove himself. He would not just play an easy 18 holes of golf; he took lessons and practiced on the driving range.
Mr. Flickinger was a gadget guy, said his wife, Kathy, and he liked to buy the latest nifty devices as gifts for friends.
(above poem/letter-from book: “Do not be sad. A Chronicle of Healing. Children’s letters and artwork sent after 9/11 from across America to Engine 24 Ladder 5 FDNY” ISBN#: 0-941807-80-0)
Elena Ledesma
“A Family’s ‘Source of Light’
Elena Ledesma was the heart and soul of her extended family. On camping trips, she was the first to pitch the tents. She was the one who administered insulin to her 66-year- old diabetic mother and took her to the doctor. She was raising two daughters and working full time.
Ms. Ledesma, who was 37, worked at the World Trade Center as a maintenance coordinator at Marsh & McLennan. She was responsible for maintenance on Floors 93 to 99. The divorced mother of a 12-year-old and a 17-year-old, she lived in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Her mother, aunts and cousins all lived in the same building.
“My sister was a giving person,” said Nelson Hernandez, her older brother. “She was always the one we turned to for anything. I had a lot of dreams. We were going to buy a house together for our mother.”
Belkis Mercedes, a friend, said she believed that many family members still expected Ms. Ledesma to reappear. “She was their source of light,” Ms. Mercedes said. ”
Karleton Fyfe’s mother had to be bedridden for the six months before he was born; he seemed to be in a hurry to get into the world.
There was so much to be excited about. Take the birth of his own son. He and his wife made it a group project. They sent family and close friends a video titled “It’s a. . . .” showing them going for the sonogram and at the end opening an envelope in which the doctor had written “boy.” When Jackson turned 1, they asked the same group to write something and seal it for him to open when he turned 18.
Then, because Mr. Fyfe heard that the terrible 2’s were caused by frustration at not being able to communicate, he taught his son sign language. “He was really living it,” said Tristin Laughter a longtime friend of the couple.
Mr. Fyfe, 31, really lived everything, applying the same boyishness and determination whether he was mastering Steve Martin routines or the curveball as a kid, or tackling projects as a senior analyst at John Hancock — the job for which he was traveling on American Airlines Flight 11.
Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on December 31, 2001.
Karleton Fyfe’s mother called his Brookline, Mass., home on Tuesday morning. She had seen the news of burning buildings and wanted to make sure her only son was not inside his 56th floor office in Boston.
He wasn’t, Fyfe’s wife, Haven, assured her mother-in-law. He was on an airplane.
Fyfe, a 31-year-old John Hancock employee and father of 1-year-old Jackson, was aboard American Airlines 11. The trip was for business.
Kansas City Star columnist Bill Tammeus had written almost all of his column–about the bombing–before he learned that Fyfe, his nephew, was a victim. “He’s the kind of kid that if there was anything that could have been done on that plane to help, he would have done it,” said Tammeus, who grew up in Woodstock.
and She called…
Blacks, Whites…wait
African Americans and Caucasians, Asians, excuse me.
Vietnamese, Philippines, Koreans and Jamaicans or
Haitians, waitin’, Hispanics, y’all.
Please be patient
Mexican, Puerto Ricans, Venezuelan, Cuban, v Dominican, Panamanian, Democrats
I beg your pardon, you partied with the late, great Reagan?
Republican, Independent, Christian, Catholic,
Methodist, Baptist, 7th Day Adventist, 5 Percenters,
Hindu, Sunni Muslim, Brothers and Sisters who never seen the New York city
skyline when the twin towers still existed.
But still She called.
From the bowels of Ground Zero she sent this 911 distress signal.
Because She was in desperate need of a hero,
and didn’t have time to decipher what to call ‘em,
so she called ‘em all Her children.
The children of the stars and bars who needed to know nothing more than the fact that she called.
The fact that someone attempted to harm us
this daughter who covered us all with her loving arms.
And now these arms are sprawled across New York City streets.
A smoke filled lung, a silt covered faced,
and a solitary tear poured out of her cheek.
Her singed garments carpets Pennsylvania Avenue and the Pentagon was under her feet.
As she began to talk, she began to cough up small particles of debris
and said, “I am America, and I’m calling on the land of the free.”
So they answered.
All personal differences set to the side
because right now there was no time to decide which state building the Confederate flag should fly over,
and which trimester the embryo is considered alive,
or on our monetary units, and which God we should confide.
You see, someone attempted to choke the voice
of the one who gave us the right for choice,
and now she was callin’.
And somebody had to answer.
Who was going to answer?
So they did.
Stern faces and chiseled chins.
Devoted women and disciplined men,
who rose from the ashes like a Phoenix
and said “don’t worry, we’ll stand in your defense.”
They tightened up their bootlaces
and said goodbye to loved ones, family and friends.
They tried to bombard them with the “hold on”, “wait-a-minute’s”, and “what-ifs”.
And “Daddy, where you goin’?”.
And, “Mommy, why you leavin’?”.
And they merely kissed them on their foreheads and said “Don’t worry, I have my reasons.
You see, to this country I pledged my allegiance
to defend it against all enemies foreign and domestic.
So as long as I’m breathin’, I’ll run though hell-fire,
meet the enemy on the front lines,
look him directly in his face,
stare directly in his eyes and scream, “I AM AMERICA! WE WILL NOT BE TERRORIZED! WE WILL NOT BE TERRORIZED! I REFUSE TO BE AFRAID! I’LL FIGHT YOU ANY COUNTRY, ANY CONTINENT, ANY TERRAIN. I’LL FIGHT TO MY LAST BREATH!”
And if by chance death is my fate,
pin my medals upon my chest,
and throw Old Glory on my grave.
But, don’t y’all cry for me.
You see, my Father’s prepared a place.
I’ll be a part of his Holy army standing a watch at the Pearly Gates.
Because freedom was never free.
POW’s, and fallen soldiers
all paid the ultimate sacrifice
along side veterans who put themselves in harms way.
Risking their lives and limbs just to hold up democracy’s weight,
but still standing on them broken appendages anytime the National Anthem was played.
You see, these were the brave warriors that gave me the right
to say that I’m Black. Or white.
Or
African American or Caucasian,
I’m Asian, excuse me.
I’m Vietnamese, Philippine, Korean, or Jamaican.
I’m Haitian, Hispanic
Y’all, Please be patient.
I’m Mexican, Puerto Rican, Venezuelan, Cuban,
Dominican, Panamanian, Democrat
I beg your pardon, you see I partied with the late, great Reagan.
I’m Republican, Independent, Christian, Catholic,
Methodist, Baptist, 7th Day Adventist, 5 Percenters,
Hindu, Sunni Muslim,
Brothers and Sisters We’re just Americans.
So with that I say
“Thank You” to the Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines,
for preserving my rights
to live and die for this life
and paying the ultimate price for me to be…FREE!
Charlie Daniels album: Freedom and Justice for All
Oh, the cowards came by morning and attacked without a warning
Leaving flames and death and chaos in our streets
In the middle of this fiery hell brave heroes fell
In the skies of Pennsylvania on a plane bound for destruction
With the devil and his angels at the wheel
They never reached their target on the ground
Brave heroes brought it down
Chorus:
This is a righteous cause so without doubt or pause
I will do what my country asks of me
Make any sacrifice
We’ll pay whatever price
So the children of tomorrow can be free
Lead on red, white and blue
And we will follow you until we win the final victory
God help us do our best we will not slack or rest
Till the last fallen hero rests in peace
Now the winds of war are blowing and there’s no way of knowing
Where this bloody path we’re traveling will lead
We must follow till the end
Or face it all again
And make no mistake about it, write it, preach it, talk it, shout it
Across the mountains and the deserts and the seas
The blood of innocence and shame
Will not be shed in vain
Chorus
God help us do our best we will not slack nor rest
Till the last fallen hero rests in peace
Born to Serve
“Firefighter Kevin Smith spent almost 20 years preparing for Sept. 11. When he called his wife, Jerri, that morning, his voice trembled with excitement, not fear.
“He was saying, `All my work during all those years and now here it is,’ ” Mrs. Smith said.
In the early 1980’s, Firefighter Smith, 47, became a charter member of the Fire Department’s hazardous materials unit. Then, after the first trade center bombing, in 1993, he was detailed to the mayor’s Office of Emergency Management.
He took on the most dangerous aspect of a most dangerous occupation because that was the kind of thing he had always done. “He just had this desire to serve,” said his sister Catherine. “And he loved being in a uniform.” He was a Boy Scout. Then a marine. He joined the volunteer fire department in Mastic, on Long Island, where he lived, and there met Mrs. Smith, an ambulance volunteer.
When they married, both brought children, eight in all, from earlier marriages. Each one inherited the same steely notion of service. One now is a sailor. One a marine. Two daughters are taking the police exam. And one son, Brian, who was a Fire Department emergency medical service officer on 9/11, was there, and survived, when the towers fell on his father.
“Sometimes, in my own self-pity, I sit and say, `How much can one family give?’ “Mrs. Smith said. She said she had been tempted to tell the world to leave them alone. But then she thinks of Firefighter Smith, so quietly devoted to family and work. “And there comes the pride,” she said, “of knowing we are all still following him.”
(Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on March 8, 2003.)”
Todd Beamer dad to 2 young sons then 3 and 1-years-old, on his last call out from Flight 93 asked the operator to call his family, pray with him and they recited the 23rd psalm together, before Todd and others on the plane counter attacked the hijackers.
The LORD Is My Shepherd
23The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. 2 He maketh me to lie down in green [1] pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. 3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. 4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. 5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest [2] my head with oil; my cup runneth over. 6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
September 11th, an American flag should be displayed outside every home (everyday), apartment, office, and store in the United States. Every individual should make it their duty to display an American flag on this anniversary of our country’s worst tragedy.
We do this in honor of those who lost their lives on 9/11, their families, friends and loved ones who continue to endure the pain, and those who today are fighting at home and abroad to preserve our cherished freedoms.
In the days, weeks and months following 9/11, our country was bathed in American flags as citizens mourned the incredible losses and stood shoulder-to-shoulder against terrorism. Sadly, those flags have all but disappeared. Our patriotism pulled us through some tough times and it shouldn’t take another attack to galvanize us in solidarity. Our American flag is the fabric of our country and together we can prevail over terrorism of all kinds. Take a moment to think back to how you felt on 9/11 and let those sentiments guide you.
LIGHTS ON…..9/11
Please join us on 9/11 all across this great land we love and call the United States of America.
September 11 everyone in the USA who will be driving a motor vehicle is asked to drive with their headlights on during daylight hours.
Though no explanation is needed as to why we are commemorating September 11, we hope more importantly to pay respect to the victims of that day, show our nation’s solidarity and show support for our men and women of the Armed Forces.
USS New York
It was built with 24 tons of scrap steel from the
World Trade Center .
It is the fifth in a new class of warship –
designed for missions that include special
operations against terrorists. It will carry a
crew of 360 sailors and 700 combat-ready Marines
to be delivered ashore by helicopters and
assault craft.
Steel from the World Trade Center was melted
down in a foundry in Amite , LA to
cast the ship’s bow section. When it was poured
into the molds on Sept 9, 2003, ‘those big rough
steelworkers treated it with total reverence,’
recalled Navy Capt. Kevin Wensing, who was there.
‘It was a spiritual moment for everybody there.’
Junior Chavers, foundry operations manager, said that
when the trade center steel first arrived, he
touched it with his hand and the ‘hair on my
neck stood up.’ ‘It had a big meaning to it for
all of us,’ he said. ‘They knocked us down. They
can’t keep us down. We’re going to be
back.’
The ship’s motto?
‘Never Forget’
Please keep this going so everyone can see what we are made
of in this country!
“Now I lay me down to sleep…one less terrorist this world does keep…with all my heart I give my thanks…to those in uniform regardless of ranks…you serve our country and serve it well…with humble hearts your stories tell…so as I rest my weary eyes…while freedom rings our flag still flies…you give your all, do what you must…with God we live and God we trust….Amen”
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