What Is It Good For?

I remember the day, vividly. It was a beautiful day. Warm, breezy, sunny but a slight haze. Gorgeous. The type of day when you wish you could play hookie but, responsibility beckons. I was working for the American Cancer Society at the time and getting ready to leave home for the day. As I recall, it was to be a busy day of meetings with board members so I was dressed very meeting appropriate. Dark suit, heels, just the right accessories. Checked and rechecked my bag. Planner, meeting agendas, etc, etc. And then, before turning off Good Morning America I saw an image that will remain with me forever — a plane flew directly into the World Trade Center. I recall seeing dark smoke spiraling around the tower and thinking, “Wow, a plane just lost its way.” Preoccupied with my first meeting of the morning, I turned off the television, hugged and kissed Marmalade, my puppy, and headed out for what I expected was going to be a long day – but for much different reasons.

That was September 11, 2001.

By the time I reached the office the day changed in ways we never could have anticipated. There was a buzzing throughout the building. Our country was attacked. What? This couldn’t happen in our country, right? In less than an hour, there were reports of another hit, and then another. Pennsylvania, the Pentagon. Staff was on edge, so many questions none of us could answer. We were told that precautions were being taken by our city. Would trains be running? Would we be hit, too? Staff wanted to leave, they needed to leave, to assure their families of their well-being, to do whatever they could to feel safe. There were tears and indescribable anxiety.

Since we hadn’t been given the go-ahead to leave the office, in part for our own safety, we did our best to calm each other. Staff used to call me Mother Earth. They saw me as one who took care – of them, of things, a voice of calm, and the one who delivered the doughnuts. I remember feeling my one regret was that I didn’t advocate loud enough for them to do what they needed to do for themselves. We did our best to console those whose families were experiencing the terror, firsthand, where attacks were taking place.

A young man on staff tried, repeatedly, to reach his brother who lived near the World Trade Center, to no avail. A young woman on staff was trying to reach her sister who worked at the Pentagon. Injured, badly, she was being carried to an ambulance when she answered the call, insisting she was fine. Later, she couldn’t remember taking the call. Shock prevailed for days.

Returning home, hours later, I stood in front of a small hand-written note taped to the wall of the elevator informing us that a neighbor had been lost that day in the World Trade Center tragedy. The losses kept coming.

As I opened my door I was greeted by this little wiggly sweet thing who, of course, knew nothing except that her mommy was home, earlier than usual. My little fluffy lovebug always warmed my heart, regardless of the day. I sat with my eyes closed for what seemed like hours, hugging Marmalade and thinking. About what I couldn’t tell you, but the sound of silence was exactly the tonic I needed. And I asked the universe a lot of questions.

I recall every detail of that day. Not only because of the hundreds of people lost and the ensuing days of uncertainty, but because I realized how close we are to each other. It’s not just six degrees but a human spirit that connects us. Everyone has moved on, hopefully living their best lives. But the one thing that will never change is what transformed us all, profoundly, on that day.

So, why am I telling this story now, a dreadful day in American history. Because here we are, in 2025, living in a consequential, uncertain, and fearful time.

I share this story to remind ourselves that we, our country, may not be unassailable, but twenty-four years ago, when the World Trade Center collapsed, taking hundreds of people with it, when a United Airlines plane was highjacked, going down in a Pennsylvania field, and the Pentagon withstood a massive hit, we, the United States of America, stared directly into the face of terror and remained faithful to our principles, fighting like hell, like the brave crew and passengers who, with dogged resolve, fought terrorists on United States Flight 93.

We and our NATO allies stood as one invoking Article 5, the one and only time in history, underscoring solidarity and their collective commitment to the alliance which follows the creed, an attack on one is an attack on all.

This is not intended to be a history lesson but rather a time to ask ourselves, knowing what we know, past and present, if this occurred, today, what would happen? Could we count on our allies as we did in the aftermath of 9-1-1? In fact, let’s begin by asking ourselves the very basic question: Could this happen again?

In the last many weeks and months, those questions have surfaced over and over again. We’ve lost our confidence in the safe haven our country has always embodied. The crater in our armor is apparent, an unmistakable vulnerability. Our super-charged political climate, here and abroad, necessitates the demand for resilience and a steady hand forward. Who can we count on to assure us we’re in good hands? It’s questionable.

I was brewing my morning coffee and the aroma of those freshly ground dark roast beans sent me to a place of aaahhh. You know, the one where you close your eyes and revel in the glory of the moment. And then, I turned on the television and there, flashing in front of my eyes, was a map of our country, all in red, warning of a high security alert. All of us. The entire country. Remind me one more time… What are we doing? And why?

I grew up during the Vietnam War. I don’t recall learning much about the war in elementary school. We were young and, perhaps, it was thought to not be of concern to a youngster. I just knew we were participants in a war “over there” and on our soil I was safe. In fact, not being safe never occurred to me. I grew up believing that the United States of America was an untouchable power. Our land was sacred. We were protected. It wasn’t until years later when I began to understand more about that war, a war that went on for a decade with people asking why. Why were we still there? It went on for so long that people forgot why we were fighting. Thousands of troops later, many never to return, many of us could not explain why we were still in Vietnam.

In 1988 I had the pleasure and honor to interview journalist Neil Sheehan with his book, “A Bright Shining Lie: John Paul Vann and America in Vietnam”. Neil Sheehan was an award-winning Vietnam War correspondent for United Press International and The New York Times. In 1971 Sheehan obtained the Pentagon Papers resulting in the Pulitzer Prize gold medal for the New York Times. It took sixteen years of dedicated commitment to tell this story before Sheehan completed “A Bright Shining Lie” a massive 800+ page historical tome, a story about the Vietnam War and all its complexities and Lt. Col. John Paul Vann who some called the closest to a hero in a hero-less war. Why John Paul Vann when so many dedicated men and women served our country during this heinous divisive war?

The story of John Paul Vann whose life was, perhaps, as complex as the war itself, is too long a story to tell, here. But the character he assumed, revealing many of the hidden truths inside the Vietnam War which were not shared by or acknowledged by the United States government, played a pivotal role, telling the story from the inside out.

For those who may not remember or those who are only aware of the Vietnam War through textbooks, here is a quick refresher. North Korea, backed by the Soviet Union and China, sought to unite the country under one communist regime while the South Korean government chose to maintain a government modeled after the West. And so began the war between the North and South. The Kennedy administration perceived a win by North Korea as the potential spread of communism throughout Asia. American troops and advisors were deployed to South Korea to provide needed support and training and the capacity needed to win their war. And there is where the United States stayed for the next decade ultimately leaving in defeat with death and destruction left behind.

Lt. Col. John Paul Vann served as an advisor and saw, firsthand, what he deemed as the arrogance of the United States military and the incompetence of South Korean forces though reports to the White House stated otherwise. We were not winning the war. This was nothing more than a bright shining lie.

A man of many indiscretions, Vann offered himself to the press when attempts to reason with his superiors failed. He became an eager, valuable, often impatient inside source to the few journalists covering the war whose reporting often conflicted with that of the White House. One of those journalists was Neil Sheehan.

During the Vietnam War protest songs took over radio airwaves while people protested in the streets. As I’ve been writing this post, there is one song that keeps streaming through my memory. WAR! by Edwin Starr. The lyrics are as follows: