I have spent the last few years doing my best to keep my entries light and non-political. I had some negative experiences with truly hateful people when I spoke my mind several years ago about an issue that caused a great divide in our country and I decided it was best to keep things funny and ...non-partisan.
Until now.
I just have to talk about this and I hope that you all can respect the fact that I am just speaking my mind after an emotional experience and will agree that we don't have to get into some huge debate over this. Deal? I promise to do my best not to get too preachy. I probably won't succeed 100% because --duh-- it IS me we're talking about.
So George and I just got back from seeing United 93 tonight and...wow. It was ...brutal. It was emotional and harsh and tragic and sad and, I have to say, very respectfully and carefully done and every one of you needs to see this movie. If only to remember and to thank whatever entity you thank when you're grateful for your lives and your families and for having the grace to live in a country such as ours (those of you who live in America, that is.) To remind yourselves, as it did for me, to be thankful for the fact that we're still here and still able to roll our eyes and yell at stupid drivers and to bitch about our jobs and the cost of gas. It could've been so much worse.
I'll do my best not to give away too much, since nothing pisses me off more than having a movie ruined before I see it...especially a brand new movie. Okay, well...other things piss me off more (cough-people who can't be considerate enough to either shut the HELL up during the movie or FREAKIN' STAY HOME, because, seriously, WHY PAY $8.00 IF YOU'RE JUST GOING TO TALK THROUGH THE WHOLE DAMNED THING!?-cough.) However, since everyone knows the story and what happened, I think I can talk about some of it without wrecking the experience for any of you.
I was doing okay for most of the movie. Until the people on the flight started calling their families, telling them they loved them and saying goodbye. I started crying and it was out of nowhere; before I knew it there were tears streaming down my face. And when the passengers rushed the hijackers? Trying to save not only their own lives but those of people in what at the time was an unknown destination for a suicide mission? Oh. My. GOD. I was literally sobbing. Uncontrollable, unabashedly sobbing. It took every ounce of energy and will to keep my mouth closed and the loud, Gracie's-losin-it-BIG-TIME, choking sobs inside. I gripped George's hand in my right and held my face together as best I could in my left. As hard as I was crying, I still wanted to be respectful to those around me and not make a big ole scene, so I just shook with the crying and was silently thankful that the movie was so loud, meaning most people couldn't hear the sounds I was unable to prevent from escaping me.
Of course, we DID have to sit in front of the ONE FUH-REAKIN' group of people who were too narcissistic and needy and controlling to shut the FUCK up for two lousy hours, as is always required of us, but even THEY --along with the rest of the packed theater-- fell utterly silent during the last part of the movie. And when it ended, we all sat --stunned and unable to move, alone with our own thoughts and memories, and surprised at how hard it hit us all-- while the credits rolled. Which is when we were surprised to see that many of the people in the movie played themselves. We also heard that a good portion of the flight crew were played by real flight attendants. After the credits finished, we all filed out of the theater and you'd have thought we were all a group of zombies. We were raw. The only sound heard was soft sniffles and shuffling feet. It was surreal.
I just can't begin to imagine the utter terror that was their experience during that flight; knowing what was happening, knowing that they would never again set foot on solid ground...that they were being used as a mobile bomb to end lives...my God. Nor can I bear the thought of how it must have been for the people on all the other flights, the people in the towers who did nothing more than show up for work that day at the trade centers, or the pentagon, or the airlines...how heart wrenching it must have been for the families watching it unfold on television and in news reports and the dawning, crushing realization that their friends and loved ones were gone. My heart breaks for each and every one of them.
And how on EARTH can those bastards who caused this tragedy have the audacity to pray to their twisted idea of god and honestly believe that they WEREN'T committing an evil act?? What kind of mental deficiency has to exist in someone's mind to perpetrate such atrocities? Sigh. Clearly we will never know. And while, deep down, I don't quite believe something equally horrific won't happen again...that malevolent forces won't sneak their way back into our community with the sole intention of erasing our complacency and joy, I continue to pray to whatever might be Out There that we'll be safe and that history won't repeat itself.
Still, I cannot (and will not) forget that day. We owe it to everyone who died or lost someone not to, not only because what happened was unthinkable and dreadful, but it could easily have been any of us. I am humbled by the gravity of the situation and feel an overwhelming awe, reverence, and raw pride for those brave souls who, in the midst of a nightmare, the magnitude of which we cannot begin to conceive, had the presence of mind (and unmitigated bravery) to stand together and fight. They brought about their own deaths by thwarting the terrorists and their mission and, in so doing, saved the lives of countless others.
I am not a religious person most days of the week, but tonight, hours after seeing United 93, I AM. I'm still so moved and humbled that I have to say the following:
God bless the families who lost loved ones during that national tragedy. God bless those men and women who fought back and God bless the men and women in uniform who spend their lives keeping us safe, both here and abroad. You are loved and truly appreciated. And bless the film makers who created this tastefully done tribute to America and Americans and for making sure that the events of that day aren't far from our minds.
And I am profoundly thankful that I have my family, that I still have the ability to bitch about mundane silliness in my life, and that I am fortunate enough to live in this great country. And I can only hope that if, God forbid, I were ever in a similar situation, that I would be so brave and selfless.
Go see the movie. Take your children.
And never forget.
