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When watching Saturday
afternoon movies back in the 1950s, it was easy enough to tell the difference
between good and evil. Wearing a black hat meant you were a bad guy. Riding a
white horse, just the opposite.
And as history was recounted in epic
movie events, I could quickly spot the enemy by the color of his coat or by his
allegiance to a certain flag. Another barrier that made it easy to distinguish
wrong from right was the "Iron Curtain."
Mr. Hancock, my eighth-grade
history teacher, seldom had difficulty in explaining world wars and who was on
what side. Even as I stood in Mrs. Blythe's study hall and listened as the Bay
of Pigs crisis unfolded, I could still identify communism as the enemy with Nikita
Khrushchev our major foe.
But today, without clear understanding, I
join my country as we struggle to define the enemy. On television, I tearfully
watch as, one after another, family members go in search of those missing, and
am totally aware if I ever allow myself to fully feel their loss, I myself might
never recover.
I find protection in daily routine as do those around
me, but I notice that we look longer into each other's eyes and speak on friendlier
terms. We seem to extend everyday courtesies to each other, and we appear less
like strangers … more like family.
We began flying our flags long before
asked and once again the red, white and blue symbolizes our unity against whatever
foe has brought such disaster to so many. With each flag there flies a sense that
we'll find victory and triumph over loss.
I am an American engulfed with
feelings shared by good people all over the world, and I cannot erase the sound
of sweet voices as they called home one, last time to say goodbye.
It's
for their sake that I long for the days when a patriot such as Paul Revere could
warn us all that an enemy was fast approaching.
Copyright ©2001
Jeanne Moseley | | |
