Madam Speaker, 9/11 was a wake-up call from hell. We all know how we reacted to it, but the weeks that followed for those of us in the greater New York area had special meaning. It was a very poignant time. I think of the family of Joe…
Madam Speaker, 9/11 was a wake-up call from hell. We all know how we reacted to it, but the weeks that followed for those of us in the greater New York area had special meaning. It was a very poignant time.
I think of the family of Joe Coppo, whose son Joseph, at the time a college student, said goodbye to him at a service in New Canaan. He talked about his dad and said, ``Dad, you wanted me to become an adult. You taught me so many things.'' This is a young man who is now a marine and served in Iraq. He told us of all the things that his dad wanted him to learn. And then he said, ``Dad, I have learned from you. Don't worry, I'm an adult now.'' And then looking at his mom he said, ``I'll be there to take care of mom.''
The next week in the same church, Frank Fetchet, in talking about his son Brad and all the things he wanted him to learn, said, ``Son, I learned far more from you than I learned from me.''
I think of a service in Easton, at a small New England church that was built hundreds of years ago and was so small that most people couldn't fit in. It was a beautiful sunny day, and most of the congregation was outside. They were talking about a young father, a young mother, and a precious 3-year-old child who were on the plane that brought down the second Twin Towers.
They talk about Peter Hanson, his wife Sue Kim, and their daughter Christine. They talked about the father and the mother, and then they had the nursery school teachers where their 3-year-old child attended school, speak about precious Christine. They ended by asking us to hold hands and sing Christine's favorite song, ``The Barney Song.''
When I left, Peter's parents wanted to see me and said, ``This can't be about anger and hate.'' They were sweetly telling me about what it couldn't be, and I was thinking I needed to comfort them.
On this day, September 11th, I think of a family, Neal and Jean Coleman, and with their only remaining son, who the next day were saying goodbye to their two sons who perished, Scott and Keith. It was a candlelight vigil, and they were talking about their beautiful young sons who had so much to live for. When the service was over, the parents insisted on seeing me. They said to me the same thing, the exact same thing, the Hansons had said ``This can't be about anger and hate.''
I think about Beverly Eckert, who met her husband years ago in junior high school, Sean Rooney. She called him on the phone because she thought he might be in one of the Twin Towers, and he was. He told her, ``Honey, I can't get out of the building.'' And she said, ``Go upstairs. Go to the top and you get to the observation floor and be rescued.'' So she spoke to him as he went to the top floor but the door was locked. She spoke to her husband for more than a half an hour knowing it was the last time they would ever speak, and said goodbye to him as the building collapsed.
Well, we know it can't be about anger and hate, but it is a wake-up call. There is more than one inconvenient truth that confronts us. The one the 9/11 Commission talks about, Islamic terrorists, who would do us harm at home and abroad.
We are confronting Islamic terrorists in Iraq and in Afghanistan, in Europe, in Asia, in North and South America. We are confronting them not out of anger and hate, but with the steely resolve that Americans are known for.
God bless the 9/11 families. God bless those who tried to save them. God bless all who live in this great country. We will prevail!