My brother, Tony, a soldier.

Most Americans over the age of 13 or 14 remember exactly where they were onthe morning of September 11th, 2001. Every adult can tell you in painstakingdetail what they were doing, maybe even where they were standing when theyheard the news. Some can tell you about the change in atmosphere as the newswent from tragedy, to terror, to a full blown attack on our Nation. Thisstory is about later that day.I was working night-shift at the Air National Guard base here in Fort WayneIndiana. I was scheduled to go to work at 2 pm, but my boss called and toldme to wait until 6 pm to come in. He added that we would be working 12 hourson, 12 hours off indefinitely. So I did what I could do to keep myself busy,taking care of things at home. I picked up my kids at school and drove tothe gas station in Hoagland and waited in line for over an hour. Not knowingwhat to expect and fearing for the worst, I at least wanted to have a fulltank. As we sat in line waiting our turn we talked about what had happened andwhat it may mean, for that day, and for the future. I don't really evenremember what I told my kids. I know that I tried to be as positive as Icould, but I do remember fearing that it would only get worse. I alsoremember feeling later that every time a big event or a holiday came around,that the next attack was imminent. Eventually we made our way to the front of the line, looking to the faces offriends and neighbors and seeing emotions ranging from rage to shock andeverything in between. We finished and headed home. We laid out a plan aboutwhat to do under different circumstances, guessing, at best, what wouldhappen when the next wave came. We talked about those lost and we prayed. I packed a bag as my mind raced about what I would see when I arrived atwork. Still not knowing exactly who attacked us, and not knowing who to beweary of, I tried to plan for any possibility. I also packed extra clothesand gear in case I wasn't able to get home for awhile.I arrived at work an hour early, and it was amazingly quiet. It took a whileto dawn on me that an airport with no airplanes should be quiet. Our fighterjets were loaded with live missiles. No one talked about it, but everyone inthis line of work knows that missiles can only be used for one thing - toshoot down other airplanes - maybe airplanes laden with more innocentcivilians. It remained quiet, even in the shop. There wasn't much talking at all, thiswas quite a change from the usual jovial attitude. We watched the continuousnews coverage, looking and hoping for some answers as to the "who" and"why". Eventually the call came for a scramble of the fighter jets. This issomething that we had practiced for years, but I would venture a bet thatnot one person in my unit ever thought that we would scramble jets with livecombat loads, from our quiet little part of the world.We provided combat air patrol missions in different areas in the Midwest,while other units did the same throughout the rest of the Country. I alsoremember vividly that first jet taking off. The norm had always been thatafter the jets were started and all the final checks were completed, theytaxied to the runway and waited for the tower to provide clearance toproceed. On that night, they started, did their checks and taxied directlyto the runway and just that quickly they were gone. Then there was completesilence again. The silence was followed by my realization that we may neverbe the same again.The fighters came and went again and as we settled into a routine I realizedthat I had prepared as much as I could, but I had forgotten about food. Iwas the shop chef and received permission to go to the grocery store. Iremember praying as I drove, for protection first for my family at home, andthen for our Nation. I remember feeling numb and alone. I entered the grocery store near the base about 11 pm; I was absolutelyamazed to find the place nearly deserted. The shelf's looked like they doafter a winter storm warning. Bread, milk and water were mostly gone; theother staples were also ransacked. I loaded up my cart with easy to prepareitems, thoughts still racing through my mind of what comes next. Ispecifically remember the feeling that I was going a thousand miles an hour,but not moving. My mind wandered. I have no idea how long a stood there inmy Air Force uniform. I also have no idea who, if anyone was around, butwhat happened next is the most vivid memory I have of that fateful day. I little old lady with just a few items in her cart was stopped nose-to-nosewith my cart. She said "Excuse me young man, are you okay?" As I lookedaround with a combination of embarrassment and the heart-race you get whenstartled, I apologized and tried to move out of her way. She left her cartthere in the center of the aisle and she walked towards me. In slow motion.She hugged me with the softest yet strongest hug I can ever remember, andshe cried. And I cried. And we stood there for what seemed like an eternity.Two complete strangers in a chance encounter. We embraced as if she was mylong past grandma Marie.I don't honestly know that there was another soul in that store. It was ifthe world stood still, not a movement, not a sound. It was just me and thisstereotypical grandma with silver hair, wrinkled skin and the bent statureof a woman who had lived a long and complicated life. I cleared my throat,trying to collect myself and she held on to my shoulders with both hands,looked me in the eye and said, "I lost my first husband in The Great War,and I lost my only child in Korea." "God bless you son, and good luck."It was at that moment that I realized that she had lived through this oncealready in her lifetime, on December 7th, 1941. And it was then that Irealized that even if the attacks continued, that they could kill ourpeople, but they couldn't kill our souls, and they could crumble ourbuildings, but couldn't knock down our resolve and they certainly couldn'ttake our Nation. So seven long years down the road, we are still free, we still go on aboutour daily lives and there are still thousands of men and women in the mostdangerous places in the world, serving our great Nation and protecting usfrom all enemies, foreign and domestic. I am truly thankful that ourPresident and the men and women of our Armed Forces have kept us safe theselast seven years. I am thankful that we live in a Nation - one of the few places in the world- where you can proclaim your hatred for it, and still be protected by it. Iam thankful for all the people that have helped in some way to protect us,and our way of life, and I am hopeful of a future where we can live in peaceand the downtrodden can have the hope of freedom that we all enjoy here.Finally I am thankful for that little old lady for giving me the lift that Ineeded, the resolve to move on and the encouragement that only a grandma cangive. Like my grandma Marie, I would love to have the chance to talk to herone more time.Someday I will see them both again.