By Eric Groves
There are no words that can describe the tragedy that occurred on 9-11-01. This is unlike any other tragedy in American history. As I type this, an occasional tear splashes down onto my keyboard. So many questions, so few answers. Why? How? What’s next? Will we ever be the same? I am thankful my family is okay, yet I weep for the tens of thousands of people personally affected by this atrocity. When it happened, I knew the best thing for me to do was to donate blood in hopes of helping even one victim. I regularly shun blood drives because I am too chicken of needles or I don’t have time or blah, blah, blah. On this day, I didn’t hesitate to donate. My wife and I rushed to the Red Cross. How ironic that tragedy brings out the best in humanity.
What I saw when I arrived at the Red Cross was amazing. Literally hundreds of Louisvillians gathered to do their meager part in this tragedy. People from all walks of life: women and men, young and old, and people from many races and nationalities were there numbly gathered. Faces were expressionless. Some had red, moist eyes. Not a soul showed the faintest smile. The patience demonstrated was extraordinary. All the crowded room could do was blankly gaze into the horror that was unfolding before us on television. Still, all were gathered to help our fellow Americans, our fellow human beings. How ironic that tragedy brings out the best in humanity.
The staff of the Red Cross was simply remarkable. The workers were unwavering in the face of the masses there to donate. They tried to be as pleasant as humanly possible considering the horrific circumstances that brought us all together. Dozens of donors passed through tables, now a pint of blood lighter. All the while, there were no crew changes. Not one worker appeared tired or cranky or annoyed because of what was happening. For all I knew, they could be there all night strapping needles to arms, taking as much blood as they could. They were the epitome of caring professionals. How ironic that tragedy brings out the best in humanity.
Finally, it was time to do my small part. As I lay on the table and the bright red blood flowed from my arm, I thought about the scores of people in Manhattan trapped at the bottom of the tons of rubble that was once America’s proudest structure. Their innocent blood surely stained the steel and concrete and glass remains. I hoped my actions would at least aid someone in New York or Washington. And suddenly on TV, I noticed Lady Liberty in the harbor, still standing proudly. The bastion of American freedom, she stood beholding the horror unfolding and surely she could do nothing more than the rest of us and weep at the billowing smoke. I hoped this dastardly act would somehow unite our sometimes frayed, if not fractured, country and that somehow, this tragedy would bring out the best in humanity.
