“Oh, Say Can You See……”

Leon would “whup on me” on slow days. He was five years older, much bigger and understood the family pecking (no pun intended, although come to think of it, he pecked on me some, too) order. In the fairly tranquil pace of the late 1950’s we grew up thinking a little pushing and shoving was a natural way of life. He did the pushing and shoving……I suffered the consequences. It was internal strife at its finest! It whiled away the hours, broke the tedium and entertained us before television reached our little neck of the woods. It was all in the family. 

When those guys from out on the Como Road pushed me down and was making off with my Western Flyer, Leon showed up out of nowhere. He whacked the one who had actually hit me so hard I swear his eyes went crossed and stayed that way through half of the fifth grade! He extracted my bike from the tall guy by jerking both handlebars and the front fender through his rib cage. He lifted the third guy off the ground with one hand, pulled him up close and whispered, pre Clint Eastwood like, “Don’t ever touch him again”.

Them three young hooligans got the message. And so did I!

Leon could push me around, that apparently was some God given commandment pertaining to “first born”. Or maybe it was his constitutional right. It might have just been a Carroll County law, I don’t know. He could distribute punishment, retribution and/or justice about like he saw fit. BUT I was not fair game for any Tom, Dick or Harry that wanted my marbles, my hula hoop or my 1958 Mickey Mantle All Star baseball card.

On September 11, 2001, some outsiders stepped into America. I don’t need to remind you of the tragedy. There are reporters out there that are far more articulate than me to rekindle your spirit as it relates to that frightening event. There is no way I could put something of that catastrophic magnitude in perspective anyway. But for some reason this morning Leon and those Como outlaws keep rolling over in my mind.

On the Monday before the attack on the World Trade Center, America was grumbling about gas prices, arguing over whether Joey ought to marry one of his "Friends" and still shaking our heads over the 2000 presidential race. That hotly contested and highly divisive campaign between Bush and Al Gore had half the country crying over the approaching global warming. The other half, naturally, was celebrating.

We woke up on the 11th enthralled in our own little worlds. We were worried, concerned and looking out for we! The universe revolved around each one of us! America went to bed that night with a whole different attitude. We were not Democrats or Republicans, Catholic or Protestant, Northerners or Southerners, rich or poor……we were all in the same boat!

America went to loving our neighbors, feeling each other’s pain and reaching out before the Red Cross sent the dun notice. People stuck American flags in their front yards voluntarily! “God Bless America” was sung at ball games. Folks started asking if they could help…..and really meant it. We all were amazed, touched and influenced by those firefighters running INTO a burning, crumbling, falling down building in hopes they could find someone to help.

I remember how I swelled with pride as Leon chased off those numskulls from down the road. They got what they deserved. Hooray for the good guys! You can’t beat family. Those little licks he would give me forgotten, I counted them as love taps. He was my brother. I appreciated his very being! It was wonderful to be alive, an American, a child of God’s……

Sadly, this country followed one tragedy with another one. I can’t remember exactly when we started being Republicans and Democrats again. I’m sure it was before the 2004 or 2008 elections. I don’t see half as many flags unfurling as we did in the immediate aftermath of 9/11. The Red Cross is having to beg for blood again. I can understand Pearl Harbor. We are admonished to remember it…..but there’s not many folks left that actually were sitting around their radios on that fateful Sunday afternoon to hear it first hand. It’s a vibrant and commanding reminder of what can happen. But it is, after all, history now.

The attack on the World Trade Center is not history! If you think that, you are living in a dream world. The threat is real and it continues. I believe Democrats have more in common with Republicans than they do with third world terrorist bent on taking over America. I think most congressmen believe that…..they just don’t act like it sometimes.

I would love to love my neighbors without anyone having to die first. I want to sing “God Bless America” when all is right. I want my grandchildren’s biggest concerns to be long check out lines and who got thrown off “American Idol”.    

It borders on the ridiculous that we have to be dodging bullets before we can get together on something in this country.

Of course, I’m not really surprised. Leon’s magnanimous rescue out on the Como Road lasted until we got back in sight of the house. He pounded me a little for being so stupid to wander that far off by myself. I resented his size and bullying. I vowed I’d grow up soon and get even. My short attention span had distanced his salvation of only an hour before.

I hope America’s short attention span doesn’t get us in the end.

Respectfully,

Kes