Justice, Pride, and Fear

I don't write about politics. It's not my thing.

But 10 years ago, I was in a small newsroom when the world stopped spinning. When planes hijacked by terrorists flew into the Twin Towers, killing thousands. I remember being afraid as I drove home that evening. I was in Michigan, far from Ground Zero, but I was afraid.

I interviewed a woman who lived in the city I covered who sat on a bridge as the towers fell. I cried as she spoke. All those lives lost. The hate responsible for our nation's terror. She saw it all happen. Her eyes captured the images I painted with words.

Today, I am afraid once again.

The nation celebrates the death of Osama bin Laden. And rightfully so. I believe in justice. I believe in bringing those who lost loved ones the comfort that only closure can bring. And I believe that our nation has the right to cheer the death of one so evil.

But, yes. I am still afraid.

While cheerleaders do pyramids in front of the White House. While crowds sing, "Na-na-na-na, Na-na-na-na! Hey Hey, Hey! Good-bye!..." And while images of Stanley Cup celebrations cross in my mind with tonight's breaking news, Osama bin Laden did not take all of Al Qaeda with him. Osama bin Laden did not die clutching all evil known to human kind to his chest.

I have closed my eyes and breathed in the sorrow surrounding Ground Zero. I am watching tonight's celebration at the site and I understand it. I do. I didn't lose anyone I know on September 11, 2011, and yet, I want to say the Pledge of Allegiance and sing our national anthem and shake the Obama's hand and thank our military personnel who put their lives on the line to protect the country they serve.

I am proud to be American. But I am afraid.

Osama is dead.

But tomorrow is a new day. And I only wish I knew what it will bring. Because I don't, I can only hug my sleeping daughter close, breathing in her innocence.