There are those moments of some deeper sort of flashing introspection when I wonder if events haven’t been lined up by a higher power in order to give us the opportunity – if we are wise enough to take it – to learn from them.
To set them in the context of what’s gone before and challenge us to pull lessons, painful as they may be, from raw emotion and hurtful memories.
I was struck by those thoughts this morning, of all mornings, and I so wanted to try to articulate for you all what occurred to me. Maybe to confirm I’m not a loon…perhaps. Although I am aware my thinking patterns can be considered a tad skewed, I hope you might be able to follow some of this and get where I’m coming from.
The assassination of a gentle, cheerful, and dynamic young man yesterday, whose only sin that I can see was his willingness to debate his firmly held beliefs openly with those who disagreed with him, has galvanized our restless group of disparate souls even as the reality of the unspeakable act is still only settling in. Only just beginning to nudge the haze of horrified shock we were all wrapped in out of the way.
And that awakening is happening on this day, of all days. This is September 11th – this most sacred and horrible day.
When America remembers the most base, vile, and contemptible foreign attack on innocent civilians in our nation’s history.
I have written about it every year in some fashion, as it’s a visceral memory in our family, as it is in so many others who live or have loved ones on the East Coast. It’s hard to even say the date without tears springing to my eyes – remembering being sick at heart with worry over Bingley at work, only a few blocks from the Trade Center, the frantic calls, watching and hearing the towers I knew well fall, that deadly dust cloud of death roll across and envelop the city.
And the planes. Oh, my God, the folks on those planes. The gaping hole in the side of the Pentagon, and the ghastly gash in the verdant green earth of a field in Shanksville.
But I also remember the incredible courage. The everyday people who were so magnificent in the face of such devastation and horror, who were thinking about others even as they faced their own peril.
Years later, on that same day, the atrocity at Benghazi. The unforgivable betrayals.
Never forget these names : Amb Chris Stevens, Sean Smith, Tyrone Woods and Glen Doherty.
Killed in #Benghazi on 9/11/12. Never forget those behind what happened and the cover up. pic.twitter.com/5G8x4805KV— Diane B (@dmb1031) September 11, 2025
The unbelievable heroics in the most desperate of hours.
Americans are amazing – that’s the only word for them.
For us.
When what seems like the worst has begun, the best in our national fabric emerges.
In 2001, we saw it in our president, standing atop the still-smoking, toxic rubble, when he assured the country that the people who did this would hear ‘from all of us.’
And a little over two weeks later, when that same president, clad in an FDNY jacket, strode out to the mound amid the roar of tremendous cheers and USA! USA! at Yankee Stadium, what would typically have been a hostile, booing crowd. He threw out the perfect first pitch of a World Series game in a ravaged but unbowed New York City.
In a wounded but united America.
I thought of that thrilling, all-American moment last night, when I saw what the Yankees had done at the stadium.
And it brought tears again.
Before tonight’s game we held a moment of silence in memoriam of Charlie Kirk.
Kirk founded the youth activist group “Turning Point USA” and had become a fixture on college campuses. Charlie Kirk, a husband and father of two children, was 31 years old. pic.twitter.com/Fz5xPlmdu0
— New York Yankees (@Yankees) September 10, 2025
I thought, ‘Oh, God bless them.’ Who else in New York would have the courage to do that? Who in the city would even think to do that?
How decently American.
Then this morning, I read a headline from people in New York, completely bereft of decency and any sense of what it means to be American, and I was immediately reminded of W standing on that rubble pile. On those twisted dusty burnt remnants of lives and dreams – telling the evil doers we were coming for them at last.
Because we, the American people, are angry – finally angry.
And this will not stand.
I don’t know.
For my own part, I sure as hell hope he’s pissed.
I want every decent rational human being left in the country mad as hell about it., https://t.co/TGyrDbjePq
— tree hugging s*ster 🎃 (@WelbornBeege) September 11, 2025
And these are the threads that have all come together to make me wonder if this isn’t one of the great mysteries of life – the power of this day.
Tomorrow we remember the bloodiest attack on our soil by foreign killers. WE remember it that way.
Democrats remember an event that forced them to appear publicly like they love America. It didn’t last long but the bad taste it gave them lingers. They no longer hide the hate.
— TugboatPhil (Cracker-American) (@TugboatPhil) September 11, 2025
The gutwrenching events of this day, time and again, that lead us to a cathartic national coalescence, however temporary, that is uniquely American and reinforces our national identity.
Our profoundly decent human national soul.
On this day, in the aftermath of the profoundly decent Charlie Kirk’s assassination, even as they still search for his murderer, there is an upwelling of determination across the political spectrum of rational, decent Americans that what has been allowed to pass will no longer be permitted.
We will no longer tolerate the madness that excuses this or encourages those who would act on it.
We have always known.
The danger was always that we gave them credit for being human beings capable of restraining themselves.
No more.
NEVER AGAIN. https://t.co/XV6TLesD7W
— tree hugging s*ster 🎃 (@WelbornBeege) September 10, 2025
Standing atop the rubble with a bullhorn.
…Charlie tried to win that fight through argumentation, through discussion, through peaceful resolution of differences.
And the other side murdered him.
Not because he was “extreme” or “inciting violence” or any other hyperbolic slur they hurled at him. They murdered him because he was effective. Because he was unafraid. Because he inspired others and made them feel like they had a voice, that they were not alone. And he did it at the very institutions which have fomented so much hatred toward conservatives.
I don’t want to “stand in solidarity” with the other side of the aisle. I want to defeat you. I want to defeat the godless ideology that kills babies in the womb, sterilizes confused children, turns our cities into cesspools of degeneracy and lawlessness…and that murdered Charlie Kirk.
Social media is aflame right now with leftist celebration of Charlie’s death.
I wonder if any among them understand what has just happened. If there is a Yamamoto somewhere in their midst warning, that all they have done is awoken a sleeping giant.
I doubt it. I think they gave up such introspection and self-awareness long ago.
I don’t know exactly what will happen next. I just know that it won’t be the same as what has happened in the past…
Prepare to deflect and reverse the streams when the squeals of ‘right-wing hate’ erupt over Charlie Kirk’s assassination because we did NOT accept their cut-and-paste ‘violence is never acceptable’ bromides.
Instead, we played their own words, fomenting hate while directing… pic.twitter.com/8K8bXwxoq0
— tree hugging s*ster 🎃 (@WelbornBeege) September 11, 2025
…Instead, we played their own words, fomenting hate while directing their lunatics to mayhem and violence, back at them in answer.
We. Are. Done.
They’ll hear from all of us.
#NeverForget #NeverForgive
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