What does your Daddy do?

Today is September 11^th.

To your generation, this day will be just another date in your history book, like the day the Constitution was ratified, or Pearl Harbor, or the assassination of JFK. 

But to my generation, it was a day that we lived.  And one we will never forget.

At that very moment that the first plane was hijacked and sent crashing into the first World Trade Center tower, I was a sophomore, sitting in Ms. Saunders’ history class.  Ms. Strickland came running into her room and turned on the tv to the Today Show.  Was this an accident?  Was this staged?  We sat in disbelief as we watched the second tower was hit by another passenger plane.  Then another plane crashed into the Pentagon, and another in a Pennsylvania field.  It was then that we knew this was not an accident.  It was real.  Evil had touched down on our American soil.

Your Gigi must have heard my heart crying all the way in Fort Rucker where she works, because she called the school.  Mrs. Bedsole came down to my classroom to let me know that Mom was on lockdown at Fort Rucker because the Department of Defense was unsure if the attacks were over, and they were protecting as many people as possible.  Gigi could not tell me what time she would be home that night.

Our teachers turned the televisions off and we tried to go back to normal life, but it was impossible.  The thoughts and prayers for the thousands of innocent people who lost their lives overwhelmed me.  The sight of the burning buildings, watching people jump from the towers above the flames, and seeing those towers fall are images that are branded into my memory. 

It was on September 11^th that the words “Taliban,” “Terrorism,” “Homeland Security,” and “Osama bin Laden” became household names and dinner discussions.  Who were these people?  Why did they hate America so much? 

Over the next few days, we watched story after story of loved ones lost, and the heroes who saved so many.  We saw walls in New York City lined with posters of people still missing.  We watched the footage of President Bush being told in a Florida classroom about the attacks and the look of sheer horror on his face, as he tried not to react to scare the children.  We were given the now famous pictures of the thousands in walking evacuation over the Brooklyn Bridge, a police officer carrying an injured citizen, and firefighters raising the American Flag above the rubble.

The true heroes of that day were the police officers, firefighters, and common people who gave up the safety of their own lives to help just one more.

After Your Daddy and I became a couple, we talked often of this day.  Your Daddy was also in his history class at his high school when it happened.  He told me that he had a pull on his heart to help.  To be a servant.  To be a first responder. 

On more than one occasion in your life, you will be asked, “What does your Daddy do?”

I hope on that day, you will stand proudly and tell them that Your Daddy is a police officer.

Your Daddy has chosen to follow his heart to be a first responder.  He has chosen to answer that call that requires him to put his life in danger every day.  To help those who need it.  To punish those who hurt others.  To patrol the streets and prevent crime.  To carry his gun to protect others and himself.  To not be a hero, but a servant.  A servant with a badge.

No, he’s not in the military.  He’ll never be deployed to fight halfway around the world.  He won’t be recognized with a Purple Heart or a Medal of Honor. He’s not a firefighter who will rush into a burning building while others are running out.  He won’t combat flames with an axe and a high powered water hose. He won’t cure cancer, and he won’t solve the energy crisis.  He won’t ever aspire to be President or even Mayor.

But what he does MATTERS.  And it was proven on September 11^th.

If there is one thing I ever learned from your Great Granddaddy, it was to be a patriot.  To love your country, pray for its leaders, and respect the flag of the United States of America.  Your Great Granddaddy fought for that flag and the freedom it represents.  He made sure his entire family was aware of what the stars and stripes mean and the lives he had witnessed that were lost just for those colors.  That we are all, men and women, created equal under our Constitution regardless of race, color, religion, or political views.  That, in times of crisis, we should cling to our flag and help our fellow man.  We should never speak ill of our country that we love so much, and always treat her with the respect that she deserves.  We should remove our hats, hold our hands over our hearts, and stand in silence when her colors are raised.

And when those colors are raised, we are to remember those who fought for that freedom, and those who perished innocently on days like September 11^th.

I hope that Your Daddy and I will be able to teach you that whenever you see a man or woman in uniform, whether it be military, law enforcement, or fire department, you should remember to thank them for their service.  Their service is a gift that can never be repaid.