A lesson for terrorists told in silence and roar
For many of us in the suburbs, one of the most resounding features of those haunting days after Sept. 11, 2001, was the silence in the sky. In a region where — from nearby to miles away — the growl of jet engines ascending and descending is something like sonic wallpaper, those days of unnatural stillness overhead added emphatic punctuation to an eerily somber time. The jets' guttural roar has now long since returned to decorate the backdrop of suburban life, and somehow, it seems a fitting response to news that the architect of that terrible day has been tracked down and killed.
Life goes on.
Osama bin Laden may have believed — and his henchmen may believe still — that a grand demonstration of the politics of terror brought America to its knees, But what he did not count on, what his followers still fail to fathom, is a people who do not stay there long. Nor do we tolerate conditions that would conspire to keep us there. So, the mission to rebuild our national pride surged in earnest during the months immediately following the terror attacks. For a long time, Republican, Democrat, Libertarian, Christian, Muslim, Hindu and Jew all shared a common dream — that this man and his organization would be quickly swept from our lives.
That was not to be, and, as is natural and good in a free society, we all eventually came to pursue our own individual aims. We parted ways over whether to launch a ground war and where. We turned our attention back to the rigors of daily life and took up debate over the role of government in our social and economic affairs. We slipped into a national recession — thanks in no small part to al-Qaida's act — and pulled ourselves out. Then, we sank again, and again began the difficult process of recovery.
The specter of bin Laden was with us through it all, of course, but we were not defined by him or by our hatred of him. He was that elusive bogey man who lay at the root of our nightmares but only rarely disturbed our sleep. Our soldiers were out there seeking him, we believed, and no doubt would one day run him down. That day came this past weekend. It so happens that it came during the watch of the politically besieged Democratic president who followed the politically besieged Republican in office when al-Qaida struck. But we know very well that had Barack Obama's administration completed its course without finding bin Laden, the person following him would have taken up the charge with equal vigor. We would have gotten bin Laden eventually. And our enemies must know we will get them, too.
They may frequent our news pages and force us to take off our shoes before we get on airplanes, but they cannot steal from us our fellowship with the Beamers of Wheaton, the Shanowers of Naperville or the Soppers of Inverness. They cannot diminish our love and gratitude for the Matt Spartzes, the Joel Gomezes, the Tammy Duckworths, the Andrew Pokornys, Geoffrey Morrises, Chris Scherkenbachs, Robert Weingers, Matthew Martineks and hundreds of other friends, neighbors, sons and daughters who sacrificed comfort, limbs and life itself in the protection of freedom. They cannot blunt our insistence on the right to disagree with each other and still give each other an equal shot at running things.
The life, and now the death, of Osama bin Laden carries an important message for America, and it is writ large in the air space above the Chicago suburbs. Terror may quiet our skies for a few days, but it will not dull the spirit that gives them their constant roar.