Ten

By Randy Garbin

Though this column usually focuses its lens on Worcester, this week it acknowledges a tragedy that has made us simply into citizens of the United States. There is no Worcester; no Massachusetts; only America. All regional distinctions suddenly evaporated as events in New York and Washington unfolded. We became in that instant one nation.

For days afterwards, I joined the rest of the country watching television and reading newspapers write the rough draft of this history. No matter how well explained, or described, or depicted, the images, words, and sounds simply would not register. I doubt anyone will ever adequately string together the simple words that illustrate the scope of this tragedy or the many levels on which it affects us. If they did, they'd deserve the equivalent to the Pulitzer, Nobel, Oscar and Emmy all rolled into one. This event will remain unimaginably painful, at least until the passage of time somehow manages to filter our perceptions and adjust our perspectives.

What I now fear the most is not another attack from outside, but the self-destructive knee-jerk reactions that threaten to kick the teeth out of common sense. When people take to the streets brandishing flags and chanting "U S A! U S A!" I see otherwise intelligent people stooping to the rabid hysterics of those fundamentalists. When I listen to our president call for the capture of a suspect "dead or alive," my stomach churns. And when I hear Jerry Falwell blame abortionists for this attack, I wonder if he too is a trained pilot.

The cacophony of competing media outlets covering this event now threatens to drag the debate and discussion on this tragedy to a new low in melodrama. And I hate melodrama. It appeals to our baser instincts, such as those that compelled those fools into plotting this action.

We must remember that people don't fly passenger planes into large buildings out of simple spite. I have to imagine that these men acted out of desperation against a country and people they saw causing harm to their homes and lifestyles. When you strip a man of his freedom, his livelihood, and worst of all, his hope for the future, you shouldn't act surprised by how he fights back. When cornered, a wounded animal will grab for any weapon available.

I grieve mainly over how this animal struck against the innocent, against people not even part of the fight, and that deserves no sanction. Like most of you, empathy will put me in the shoes of those who found themselves trapped in the rubble for weeks to come. I will stare at pictures of those towers crumbling and hear the screams of the souls ripped from their bodies.

While those thoughts linger, I relegate Worcester to a place I where sleep and keep my stuff. America is my home.