My Own Story - September 11th

I just realized today that I have been asking people to share their service storys without having shared my own.  So, here goes:

On the morning of September 11th I was sleeping in.  I had been out with friends late the previous night.  The phone started to ring.  At first, I did not want to get out of bed.  But the ringing would not stop.  Over and over the phone kept blaring.  Finally, annoyed, I stomped over and picked up.

"Yeah," I said.  "Are you watching this?"  My brother said, or words to that effect.  "What are you talking about,"  I answered.

"We are at war!"  The words I will never forget.  I turned on the TV to see the smoldering hole in one of the Twin Towers.  Then out of the corner I saw a replay of the second plan screaming across the screen and into the other tower.

Besides the obvious shock of the moment, I was immediately hit with a feeling that I have been trying to describe in this blog - an overwhelming sense that I needed to do something.  I needed to help other people and I needed to do it that instant.

I proceeded to rush to the hospital to try to donate blood but there were already hundreds of people doing the same.  I rushed all the way downtown to volunteer to help at Ground Zero.  But they already had enough.

That night, I remember laying in bed wide awake.  I could here F-15 fighter jets patrolling the skies above Manhattan.  And I'll never forget this - I could smell something so cruel - it smelled like burning death, from the fumes smoldering out from the hole where the towers once stood.

That overwhelming sense to do something simply would not go away.  It was like a call in my head or heart.  The next day I walked over to Times Square and into the famous recruiting station there and I asked how I could join the Marines.

It would take a couple of months to process my paperwork, but I was soon part of the first Officer Candidate School class that followed September 11th.  I was commissioned in March of 2002 and proceeded to serve two tours of duty in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom.

The question is - why was I driven to do this?  I was the only one out of my friends and family who decided to join.  Why weren't more people moved to do the same?  There was a line at the recruiting station but nowhere near as long as I expected.  And probably nowhere near as long as the day after Pearl Harbor.  I started thinking, even back then, was this a reflection on our own society? 

In subsequent years of experience, I've come to the conclusion - and the main reason for writing the blog - that the answer to this question is YES.  Our country has changed, and not for the better, when it comes to the idea of self-sacrifice and service.  And I hope that by sharing my story and by providing a forum for others to share, I can help to change this country.