Editor’s note: This editorial was originally published in the Sept. 13, 2001, edition of The Post.
It is not yet known whether Tuesday will go down as the bloodiest day in U.S. history — with more deaths than the 4,000-plus who died in one day at Antietam or the 2,400 who died at Pearl Harbor. But the measure of terrorism is already clear in sickening images and sensations, unforgettable however much we might wish otherwise: The acrid smell of the Pentagon fire that raged on into yesterday. The Washington resident who visited his burned wife in the hospital and was unable to recognize her. The trapped victims who toppled out of New York’s World Trade Center. The morgue set up in a nearby branch of Brooks Brothers that received limbs one at a time. We the survivors know that hundreds, likely thousands, of people like us had their lives ended two days ago, and that the difference between living and dying came down to blind chance.
The terror also has summoned the heroes whose examples lift the spirits and make it easier to live on. New York’s Mayor Rudolph Giuliani performed magnificently throughout Tuesday, touring the disaster scene and speaking with a mix of passion and practical counsel. New York’s firefighters charged into the World Trade Center as office workers streamed out of it, and many lost their lives. Hundreds of doctors, nurses and rescue experts volunteered their services; Ali Taqi, 24-year-old firefighter from Michigan, drove overnight to Manhattan to see if he could join the rescue squads. Willing blood donors formed lines in hope of being helpful. Trucks showed up at the disaster carrying gifts of clothes from anonymous donors.
Then there is the story of United Airlines Flight 93, which started to come to light yesterday. Jeremy Glick, one of the hijacked passengers, called his wife from the aircraft to say that a group of passengers meant to fight their capturers, even though it would surely cost their lives. Thomas Burnett, another passenger, called his wife and said the same. More details may yet be discovered, but it appears that unarmed citizens took on the knife-wielding hijackers. Instead of hitting the terrorists’ intended target, apparently in Washington, the airliner crashed into a field near Pittsburgh.
The horror is indelible, but life has to continue, so people reached for the supports that would help them to carry on. They called members of their families; they attended religious services; they turned in remarkable numbers to the patriotism that is dormant in more normal times. Wal-Mart, the world’s biggest retailer, sold 88,000 American flags on Tuesday, 15 times the number on the same day last year. Students at Adlai Stevenson High School near Chicago wore red, white and blue for classes on Wednesday. When a firefighter planted an American flag on a tall pole in the debris outside the World Trade Center, rescue workers cheered.
We are a long way from the end of this tragedy; we cannot even know how long. There may still be survivors in New York’s rubble, and the cleanup operation will take at least a month there, while the effort at the Pentagon could take 10 or 15 days. In the coming days, there will be more sickening images as well as more inspiring ones. But for the moment we’ll conclude with that phone call from the airliner that went down near Pittsburgh. According to his family’s account, Jeremy Glick told his wife to have a good life and look after their baby. It is advice to comfort all who have survived.
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