It is 8:45AM on September 11th 2008 as John Ricketts arrives at the pentagon only to find over three thousand flags staggered across the yard of the pentagon. Mr. Ricketts knows quite vividly what happened here on this very day several years ago, as he himself was working in the pentagon this day exactly seven years ago. As John entered through security, he was halted by the sight of these flags and by the meanings they imposed on each individual that passed by. Mr. Ricketts drove in silence, abruptly hitting the nob on his car radio to eliminate every noise possible. As he parked his car several hundred feet away from the flags, John turned off his car and took a long pause. He sat in silence, taking a deep breath as he slowly closed his eyes as if he was in a dramatic movie.
John Ricketts was in the Pentagon when he first heard that the World Trade Center had been hit by an airplane. He was ultimately shaken, stunned that such an awful event could happen so close to his very location. It was now 9:03AM as he learned that the second tower had been hit by another airplane in which he knew was an intentional act of terrorism. In a desperate attempt to contact his brother in New York City, he made a desperate call to his office phone where they had a brief conversation about taking cover. As an hour passed by, John began to feel uneasy, John was getting violently scared as to what could happen next. Suddenly it happened. Slam! Smash! Boom! American Airlines flight 77 had suddenly crashed into the pentagon as John went to get copies out of the copier. The explosion was near him, 1 sector away was all that stood between John and widespread fires, rubble, chaos and sadness. John, as instructed, evacuated the building as soon as possible and called his wife and newborn child in Arlington Virginia to ensure that he was not harmed.
John opened his eyes as he was greeted with a cold chill that ran through his veins. As he went to pick up his coffee, John shook violently, as if he was reliving what had happened seven years ago. John dropped his travel mug back into the cup holder and proceeded to hug the steering wheel of his car and break out into tears. John was shattered by the event, by the instillation of terror within his mind, by the fear of his wife and child attending his funeral, by the pain and suffering his friends went through when they learned their love one would not come home from work that day. John was haunted by these past events like a child scared of the monster under the bed. The only problem was he had a reason to be scared, he had escaped death, at least in the wake of this event he had managed to do so. He was scared of the harsh reality that him and others alike had experienced seven years ago that made a hole in his bleeding heart.
Mr. Ricketts finally worked up the courage to get out of his car. John reached for the door handle and proceeded to gather his things and walk towards the building. In a desperate attempt to ignore the flags and proceed into the building, John felt overcome with emotion and directed his pace towards the flags. The first flag he observed was dedicated to a Chandler McMiller, a receptionist in one of the World Trade Towers. Accompanying the flag was a picture of Chandler McMiller with his wife and two daughters. Moving down the line of flags, John stumbled upon the flag of his colleague and best friend, Mark Brightwell, who was killed in the pentagon when flight 77 crashed into his sector. John picked up the picture of his friend and his family and wept knowing that the Brightwell family lost the most important man in their lives seven years ago. John put the picture down and gazed among the 3000 or so flags in the crowd, taking a moment of silence to respect those who were harmed on the day of infamy. John closed his eyes again, took a deep breath, and walked off the lawn.
John Ricketts walked by the portion of the pentagon that seven years ago was turned into a pile of rubble. He remembered the chaos vividly; people covered in blood, safety workers trying to assist the harmed, everyday workers volunteering to get people to safety, and most of all, the American flag waving patriotically in the background. John walked towards the flag pole in front of his sector and looked up towards the flag. The blinding bright sun hindered John's depth of perception of the flag, but John knew it was flying boldly at half mass. After taking another look at the flag pole, John noticed a bird resting peacefully atop of the pole. Atop of the flagpole was a falcon, a symbol of peace, respect, mourning and hope. John observed the bird for several minutes and was overcome by a minimal feeling of peace and healing. John knew that the attacks harmed his country, friends and family, but he knew that no force, enemy or foe, could strike down his will to heal his emotions from the disaster that destroyed his heart seven years ago. John turned towards the pentagon, bowed his head and said a prayer:
Dear Lord; on this day of mourning, please bless all of those harmed by the crimes committed by evil seven years ago on this day of September 11th 2001. Please bless those of us left here on earth dealing with sorrow, pain, suffering and hopelessness as we struggle through life each day asking why hated was expressed so violently on this day. And lastly, please bless those of us struggling to heal and forgive in this time of remembrance. Lord I thank you for your prayers. Amen
Larry Guiler
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