Also see Patriotism.


I've Seen the Angels Cry

I have always thought that angels
wore halos and wings of white,
But now I find they wear hard hats
and black coats with yellow stripes.

And angels, in my mind, wore long
flowing gowns of white,
But now I see dark pants and shirts
and badges shining bright.

And angels always floated with
bare feet above the ground.
Not true! They wear steel-toe boots
and go where death is found.

Not all angels have smooth hands
that look like porcelain,
Some angels have torn gloves and
cuts and burns upon their skin.

And while I thought all angels
glowed from heavens light,
I see an angel cutting steel
his torch is shining bright.

And while these earthly angels
passed buckets of debris,
The angels up in heaven looked
down on bended knee.

So while the smoke continued
to rise into the sky,
I watched rescue workers weep.
I've seen the angels cry.


As the soot and dirt and ash rained down,
We became one color.

As we carried each other down the
stairs of the burning building,
We became one class.

As we lit candles of waiting and hope,
We became one generation.

As the firefighters and police officers
fought their way into the inferno,
We became one gender.

As we fell to our knees
in prayer for strength,
We became one faith.

As we whispered or shouted
words of encouragement,
We spoke one language.

As we gave our blood in lines a mile long,
We became one body.

As we mourned together the great loss,
We became one family.

As we cried tears of grief and loss,
We became one soul.

As we retell with pride of
the sacrifice of heroes,
We become one people.

We are:
One color
One class
One generation
One gender
One faith
One language
One body
One family
One soul
One people

We are the Power of One.
We are United.
We are America.

The Binch

(SaxonDawg, September 13, 2001, based on The Grinch by Dr. Seuss)

Every U down in Uville liked U.S. a lot,
But the Binch, who lived Far East of Uville, did not.
The Binch hated U.S! the whole U.S. way!
Now don't ask me why, for nobody can say,
It could be his turban was screwed on too tight.
Or the sun from the desert had beaten too bright
But I think that the most likely reason of all
May have been that his heart was two sizes too small.

But, Whatever the reason, his heart or his turban,
He stood facing Uville, the part that was urban.
"They're doing their business," he snarled from his perch.
"They're raising their families! They're going to church!
They're leading the world, and their empire is thriving,
I MUST keep the S's and U's from surviving!"

Tomorrow, he knew, all the U's and the S's,
Would put on their pants and their shirts and their dresses,
They'd go to their offices, playgrounds and schools,
And abide by their U and S values and rules.

And then they'd do something he liked least of all,
Every U down in U-ville, the tall and the small,
Would stand all united, each U and each S,
And they'd sing Uville's anthem, "God bless us! God bless!"
All around their Twin Towers of Uville, they'd stand,
and their voices would drown every sound in the land.

"I must stop that singing," Binch said with a smirk,
And he had an idea--an idea that might work!
The Binch stole some U airplanes in U morning hours,
And crashed them right into the Uville Twin Towers.
"They'll wake to disaster!" he snickered, so sour,
"And how can they sing when they can't find a tower?"

The Binch cocked his ear as they woke from their sleeping,
All set to enjoy their U-wailing and weeping,
Instead he heard something that started quite low,
And it built up quite slow, but it started to grow--
And the Binch heard the most unpredictable thing . . .
And he couldn't believe it--they started to sing!

He stared down at U-ville, not trusting his eyes,
What he saw was a shocking, disgusting surprise!
Every U down in U-ville, the tall and the small,
Was singing! Without any towers at all!
He HADN'T stopped U-Ville from singing! It sung!
For down deep in the hearts of the old and the young,
Those Twin Towers were standing, called Hope and called Pride,
And you can't smash the towers we hold deep inside.

So we circle the sites where our heroes did fall,
With a hand in each hand of the tall and the small,
And we mourn for our losses while knowing we'll cope,
For we still have inside that U-Pride and U-Hope.

For America means a bit more than tall towers,
It means more than wealth or political powers,
It's more than our enemies ever could guess,
So may God bless America! Bless us! God bless!

There are many great poems about 9/11 by Del 'Abe' Jones on the War Veterans' Poetry Archives.

Journaling About 9-11

(Teri Jackson)

Use these questions as prompts to write out the facts, and the thoughts, feelings, emotions you experienced during and in the days following the Tuesday tragedy.
Select from them what might help you tell the story of this time in our lives.
See also the abbreviated outline at the end, which may be easier for some to use.
The important thing is to capture on paper a record of your reactions before time dims our memories.

Another Approach:

Chronology of September 11

(times are Eastern Daylight Time)

Times Have Changed

In 2019 the 'politically correct' New York Times couldn’t bring themselves to use the words ‘Islamic terrorists’ or even just ‘terrorists’ so this is what they tweeted on the anniversary of the 9-11 attacks “18 years have passed since airplanes took aim and brought down the World Trade Center.” I guess they thought no one would notice, but many did and they quickly removed the tweet.