I had to be at work at 8 am. Bonnie and I were living in Lake Arrowhead, California in 2001, so the 8 am starting time meant that we had to be up at 6 am. It was a grueling drive down the mountain of winding roads to reach my workplace. Normally, I arrived at work some fifteen minutes early, provided there was no fog. Negotiating those mountain curves required considerable skill even when you could see where you were going.

I recall a time when Bonnie had to pull into one of those scenic pull-outs where one could appreciate the view from over 5,000 feet. It was foggy. It was real foggy. She was driving by herself. Something about the flow of traffic disturbed her, so using caution, she pulled in the pull-out. When it seemed safe, she exited the area on the upper slope. Just as she did an eighteen-wheeler rounded the curve and came within a whisker of turning our green buick into a crushed beer can -- tumbling several thousand feet down the mountain.

I showered, dressed and found my way to the table where breakfast was just about to be served. My wife and I were going through various verbal pleasantries as was the everyday routine before breakfast . . . when the phone rang. Who would be calling us at this hour? Was something wrong with the kids? First thing on any parent's mind. Was something happening at the office where I worked and I needed to be informed? What?

Bonnie answered the phone. It was our neighbor across the street.

"Is your television on?" she inquired.

"No?" said Bonnie.

"Turn it on now!," our neighbor instructed. "Something terrible in New York."

"Turn on the TV, Paul," Bonnie cried at me.

"What?" My nose was buried in other stuff.

"Turn on the TV!" she demanded, her voice elevated a few notches.

I made haste to turn on the TV.

There was no need to find the right channel. There it was right on the screen; one of the World Trade Center buildings was on fire. Huge billows of black smoke darkened the sky. The announcer explained that an airliner had flown into the building. In a few moments, the building crumbled and fell amidst billowing clouds of dust.

"All those people," I thought in great emotional pain.

As I continued to watch, I saw another airliner fly into the second tower issuing Hell-like flames and smoke. I was stunned. I was astonished. I could not speak.

I knew then, that this was no accident. It had been done deliberately. My immediate thought was, "Who could have done this?" The thought was not long in being answered. The only ones that hated us this much were the Arabs. Muslims. Islamic radicals.

I am a veteran, but I spent my entire enlistment right here the in good ol' US of A. All of my buddies were shipped to Korea or Germany. Not me. I became a radar operator in the Nike missile defense system. I became a "scope dope," in the vernacular of my colleagues.

In 2001, I was 64 years old. I remember thinking, "What I wouldn't give to be able to join the military right now." I wanted revenge. I wanted combat. I wanted to make those guys pay. I remember feeling that I would eagerly give my own life if I could make that happen. I wanted to obliterate the perpetrators of this hideous crime, not simply against the United States of America, but humanity as well.

Obviously none of that happened. We all know the history of the last two decades. It's not pretty.

But let me tell you about the weeks that followed 9/11. I have lived now 85 years in America. Never in my lifetime have I seen the American people come together as one as in those few weeks after 9/11. We were not Democrats. We were not Republicans. We were not Liberals. We were not Conservatives, or whatever . . . WE WERE ALL AMERICANS!

What is it going to take to get us back to the place where we are all pulling together once again? How can we recapture that ethos? That sense that we are all together? That sense of patriotism?

At this point, I am at a loss for words. The naked truth is that I haven't the faintest idea.

If there is anything I learned from 9/11, it is this: Somewhere in the American corporate soul there is a reverence for this country and a realization that even with its faults, it has clearly enjoyed the richest blessing God has bestowed on a nation.

Jesus said, "The kingdom of God is within you." I believe that with all the sensibility of which I am capable. I also believe that a United America is within each one of us.

It is my earnest and fervent prayer that we make it so.

-- PDM

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