Who Knew?

My own personal September 11, 2001, actually began in July when I went to the doctor with what I thought was a bladder or UT infection. This proved not to be the case, and a quick round of tests revealed a cyst on my left ovary. The doctors assured me that it looked benign, but surgery would be necessary to remove it. We set the date – September 11. I took a month’s leave of absence from work, beginning September 10. On the 11^th, I woke up and began to get ready to leave for the hospital, a bit apprehensive, of course. It was not long before we were due to leave that the phone rang and my aunt told us to turn on the radio (we don’t have a TV). Our radio doesn’t pick up well at our house, but what we could hear was stomach-churningly clear – our nation was under attack. I tried to pull up the news on the internet, but the suddenly heavy site traffic prevented us from accessing any news sites quickly (our dial-up connection didn’t help matters).

At the time, experts were predicting a need for massive donations of blood and reporting that some hospitals were already postponing elective surgeries to free up their supplies in case it was needed to ship to NY. My aunt is a nurse and she suggested we call ahead to make sure my surgery was still scheduled. We did, it was, we started for Mobile and were glued to the radio the entire trip south. Reports were starting to come in about the Pentagon, about a possible fourth plane, about possible car bombs in the Capitol. This was not exactly what I would have wished for if asked how to be distracted from my own surgical misgivings.

Of course, the TVs in the hospital waiting room were all showing the same thing (every TV in the country was showing the same thing). The stories and pictures were more and more heartbreaking as the morning went on. Even as minutes passed and there were no new reports of “incidents,” the fear that more attacks were waiting in the wings kept everyone on the edge of their seats – literally and figuratively. Speculation on “why” and “who” and “where next” was the conversation of the day. Only my impending surgery could drag my thoughts away from NY, DC, & PA – and only NY, DC, & PA could drag my thoughts away from surgery. Neither thought process was a calming one.
As my family waited in the waiting room and later visited me in the hospital, my mom kept a journal of all who came to visit or called. In the back of that journal, my nephew Gavin drew some pictures of what he saw on the waiting room TVs that day. The above is one - the WTC with hearts.

My surgery did go well, and the cyst did prove as benign as the doctors had believed. Thus, as I lay in recovery, waiting to go to my room, the conversation turned again to NY, DC, & PA and, more immediately for my family, whether the National Guard would be activated. My father was at the time a member of the 225^th Area Support Group, stationed at Ft. Whiting in Mobile. Even after I came home, we lived in dread of the next phone call being the one that would call him to war.

Instead, on October 4^th, we got the call that my grandmother, my dad’s mom, had been in a car accident. By the time we got to the scene, she had died. Only a matter of days earlier, she and my mom’s mom had both been at the house at the same time, checking on my recovery. That image, of the two of them sitting together on our couch, is one of my most treasured memories. It was one thing I held on to the tightest as we stumbled our way through the week that followed her death. I still have the flowers and ribbon from the bouquet she brought, preserved and safely tucked away. 

In late August of 2002, as the first anniversary of 9/11 approached, I wrote the following piece. It may not be my most eloquent effort, but it is still one of my most heartfelt. God Bless the USA!

October 2000
Who knew by next Halloween the bogeyman would have a face, and the “superheroes” our children would impersonate would be firemen, police officers, and paramedics – hometown heroes, not the Hollywood version?

November 2000
Who knew next Veterans Day we would have so many more veterans, or that their ranks would now include emergency personnel and the common working man?

Who knew by next Thanksgiving we would have so much more to be thankful for?

December 2000
Who knew by the next Pearl Harbor Day, there would be another “day that will live in infamy?”

Who knew by next Christmas our wish lists would be so much simpler; and that “peace on earth, goodwill to men” would be a prayer, a plea, and not just another phrase in a song?

January 2001
Who knew that this first year of a fresh new millennium would end in war, or that this year would redefine us as Americans and as individuals?

February 2001
Who knew by next Valentine’s Day we would have so many more broken hearts?

March 2001
Who knew that by next St. Patrick’s Day, we would not just all be Irish, but we would all be American, united as rarely before, wearing not just green, but red, white, and blue?

April 2001
Who knew by next April 19, another hole would be torn in the heart of America?

Who knew by next Easter, we would cling more tightly to the hope of the Resurrection?

May 2001
Who knew by next Mothers Day, we would have lost so many mothers, and have so many more mothers raising children alone?

Who knew by next Memorial Day  there would be so much and so many more to remember?

June 2001
Who knew by next Flag Day we would treasure our flag and the freedoms it represents so much more, or that so many would already have a flag displayed – on their house, on their lawn, on their car?

Who knew by next Fathers Day, we would have lost so many fathers, and have so many more fathers raising children alone?

July 2001
Who knew by next July Fourth, we would have another anniversary we could invoke by just the date; that watching a plane take off or land or just fly over could be as patriotic an act as waving the flag; or that going to work could be our own act of defiance?

August 2001
Who knew that family vacations would be so much more significant and that going back to school could be such a precious freedom?

September 2001
Who knew by next Labor Day the working man would be on the front lines of homeland defense, or that going to work could be just as perilous as going to war?

Sunrise, September 11 – who knew?

My Prayer This Spring

Where there were storms
    I pray for calm
Where is hurt
    I pray for healing
Where there is loss
    I pray for comfort
Where there is anger
    I pray for peace
Where there is lonliness
    I pray for love
Where there is discord
    I pray for unity
Where there is defeat
    I pray for triumph
Where there is despair
    I pray for hope
Where there is death
    I pray for rebirth
Where there is destruction
    I pray for rebuilding
Where there is silence
    I pray for singing
Where there are tears
    I pray for joy

~Ashlea Singleton 2011

Together

The rain fell
And the wind came
Before I knew it
The whole world changed
I looked at a land
That I once knew
And wondered how to start
Or if I could
Then I felt the touch
Of a comforting hand
And I heard a voice
Together we can

~Ashlea Singleton 2011

Memorial Day Quotes

And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor. ~ Declaration of Independence

Dear Lord, lest I continue in my complacent ways, help me to remember that someone died for me today. And if there be war, help me to remember to ask and to answer "am I worth dying for?" ~Eleanor Roosevelt

I'm proud to be an American, where at least I know I'm free. And I won't forget the men who died, who gave that right to me. ~Lee Greenwood 

True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost. ~Arthur Ashe

About the Name

"Ashlea": Probably self explanatory, but just in case: my name. Pronounced "ash-lee."

"Aunt": I am the “real” aunt to three wonderful boys and one awesome niece. I have also been honorary aunt to many others over the years. Everybody needs an aunt to laugh and cry with, and spoil you rotten.

"Attic": This page is a catch-all (much like a real attic) of thoughts, opinions, essays, poems, etc. Most of it may be trash, but maybe there will be an unexpected treasure crop up one of these days.

1,000,000 Reasons to Observe Memorial Day

Each year on Memorial Day a national moment of remembrance takes place at 3:00 p.m. local time.

"I Believe in the United States of America as a Government of the People, by the People, for the People; whose just powers are derived from the consent of the governed; a democracy in a Republic; a sovereign Nation of many sovereign States; a perfect Union, one and inseparable; established upon those principles of freedom, equality, justice, and humanity for which American patriots sacrificed their lives and fortunes.
I, therefore, believe it is my Duty to my Country to love it; to support its Constitution; to obey its laws; to respect its Flag; and to defend it against all enemies."

The American's Creed is the national creed of the United States of America. It was written in 1917 by William Tyler Page as an entry into a patriotic contest. It was adopted by the U.S. House of Representatives April 3, 1918.

Memorial Day began after the Civil War as both Union and Confederate veterans and surviving families sought to honor and remember their dead. After the Great War (WWI), people began to include tributes to the dead from all of America's wars. Originally observed on May 30 each year, in 1971 federal law shifted it to the last Monday of May (which this year just happens to be May 30).

American Revolution - 25,000+ dead

War of 1812 - 20,000+ dead

Mexican-American War - 13,000+ dead

Civil War - 600,000+ dead

Spanish-American War - 2,000+ dead

Philippine-American War - 4,000+ dead

World War I - 100,000+ dead

World War II - 400,000+ dead

Korean War - 36,000+ dead

Vietnam War - 58,000+ dead  

War on Terror - 5,000+ dead

Afghanistan - 1,000+ dead

Iraq - 4,000+ dead

Plus numerous other occupations and military actions =
1,000,000+ dead

Memorial Day History - History.com
10 Things About Memorial Day - Mental Floss.com 
American's Creed - Wikipedia.com (emphasis mine)
US Military Casualties of War - Wikipedia.com

Welcome!

I originally started this blog in 2006, after we were hit by Hurricane Katrina (yes, someone besides NOLA was hit, don't get me started). I made one other non-hurricane related post, and then kinda forgot about it. This is my attempt to re-boot, so to speak. I've deleted the Katrina related stuff, kept the post about mom & dad (I liked it, plus it shows just how much of a procrastinator I am lol), and started over with some observations about my favorite place in the world - my home state. I hope you enjoy.

STILL Alabama the Beautiful

"Alabama the Beautiful" is a slogan adopted by the Alabama Tourism Department at some point in the last 100 years (I couldn't find the exact date, I'll edit if I do). It is used in advertising, I assume, Alabama's virtues to non-Alabamians as a tourist destination. For Alabamians, the phrase is most visible on the big green signs welcoming us home after sojourns or exile in foreign lands (or welcoming foreigners to our exotic shores, whichever way you prefer to spin it). It also makes guest appearances on those old-fashioned GPS's called road-maps that you can find at some rest areas and the occasional truck stop and a modified version urges all and sundry to "Keep Alabama Beautiful" as part of an anti-littering campaign, but that version seems to have fallen out of popularity a bit lately.

There are those outside and inside our borders who scoff at the idea of Alabama being beautiful. They are those who have looked beyond the tourism brochures and seen the poverty that still exists here, the petty bickering over whose sports team is the best, the racial tensions that still flare at inopportune moments, the political squabbles that have kept good people from doing better for themselves. And I don't deny that like any other place on Earth, there are problems here that might or might not be solved more easily than we know. 

But in April 2011, I saw once again how beautiful my home state really is. It had nothing to do with the sparkling white sands that edge the Gulf of Mexico, or the gently rolling mountains that rise to the sky in the North. I wasn't feasting my eyes on a pristine stand of evergreen trees in the Pine Belt or visiting any of our beautiful historical homes and gardens.

Just the opposite.

I saw trees that had been snapped like toothpicks, houses that looked like a giant had stepped on them, and cars that had been tossed about like toys. I saw entire towns leveled in the time in takes you to read this blog entry. I saw entire families torn apart, lives shattered, homes destroyed, memories scattered. 

And then I saw the people of Alabama reach out, pick each other up, dust each other off, and start putting the pieces of each others' lives together again.

No, it hasn't been easy. As others have said, this is a marathon, not a sprint. There is still a long road ahead, in terms of grief, and anger, and simply getting enough food and shelter for all those who were affected. But in the aftermath of such devastation, such horror and pain, the shear speed of response, and the numbers involved, was and is beautiful to behold.

I've seen that response before, of course. I've seen it in my own community when disaster strikes. I saw it personally on November 15, 2006, when a tornado hit my own home. I couldn't even count the number of people who came and helped that day. By the time the news people made it here from Mobile, the main evidence of the disaster had been cleared away. The camera man was amazed, declaring he had never seen anything like it. I see it every time there is a hurricane and we jump in to help each other before any governmental agency has time to reach us. I saw it on April 15, 2011, when tornadoes first hit Alabama, killing 7 statewide and 3 in Washington County.

My point is, for once, an ad agency got it right, though they also got it wrong. Alabama IS beautiful, but not just because of its beaches and trees and mountains and rivers. I love all of those things. But, in spite of the dumb and crazy stuff that we usually make the national headlines for, Alabama is beautiful because of her people.

Bittersweet Anniversary

I know I haven't updated this blog like I should have and this particular post should have gone up a month ago. Meanwhile...

On January 26, 2004, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. At the time, my father had been stationed in Kuwait as part of Operation Enduring Freedom for almost a year. While safer than Iraq, he was still in a war zone and we had had a tense year of it. His time was almost up, but his unit had not received a definite out-of-country date yet. We knew it could theoretically be any day, but every day still over there was another day of worry for all of us back home. Sitting on our couch, hearing my mom say cancer, still afraid for my dad, was a shattering experience.

Events proceeded quickly (at my mother's request and with my dad's approval) and Mom actually had a lumpectomy two days after her diagnosis, with no definite plans for my dad to come home early. Before the surgery, the doctors had been fairly (key word) confident that the cancer cells had not spread to her lymph nodes and were considering radiation without chemotherapy as a possibility for treatment. Tests performed immediately prior to and during surgery dashed that hope - cancer cells were found in three lymph nodes and chemo was now required.

At this point, we decided to get Dad home sooner rather than later. Men aren't always the best of nurses, so that wasn't the reason why, but Mom needed her husband, we kids needed our Daddy, and all of us needed the peace of mind of knowing he was safe while we dealt with this fresh crisis. The Red Cross is the go-to organization when you need to get an overseas military family member home in a family emergency, and they really stepped up to the plate. Dad flew in to Mobile Regional Airport (MRA) on February 1, 2004, just four days after Mom's surgery.

Since 9/11 visitors can't go all the way down to the gate at MRA anymore to meet incoming planes (or watch outgoing ones for that matter), so we had to wait up at the main lobby. The welcoming party we had there to greet him was nothing compared to what we had been planning before all this with Mom came up, but there are few feelings in the world like seeing him walk down that concourse, coming home for good (he had been home on leave back in December, but that's another story). He was dressed in civvies and carrying a dozen yellow roses - Mom's favorite flower. The picture above is their reunion at the airport.

Mom and I were talking just the other day about how hard it is to believe that it has been two years since that diagnosis. An awful lot has happened around us and to us in those two years, and I'll be getting to that later. But for now, I just wanted to remember how I felt two years ago, first sitting on our couch and, a week later, standing at the airport. Two years later, my mother is cancer free and my father is retired from the National Guard, but all I have to do is look at this picture and I can relive two of the scariest years of my life - the one that ended for my dad and began for my mom.