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A Guiding Beacon
Sep. 16th, 2016 12:28 pmThey erected a beacon to guide their children
And their children’s children,
And the countless myriad
Who should inhabit the earth in other ages.
(Abraham Lincoln: Bloomington Speech – 1852)
On this first observance of Patriot Day
We remember and honor those who perished
In the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001.
We will not forget the events of that terrible morning
Nor will we forget how Americans responded
In New York, at the Pentagon,
And in the skies over Pennsylvania
With heroism and selflessness;
With compassion and courage;
And with prayer and hope.
(Presidential Proclamation: George W. Bush – 2002)
I never thought I’d attend a 9/11 Memorial Concert. I usually ignore all the citywide events, and the concerts, memorials, and specials on TV and radio. I was stunned by the scenes and events of that day in September in 2001, and never felt the need to relive it. I was the principal of Van Nuys Middle School on the day the Twin Towers fell in New York, and the father of a family on that day when life in America changed forever. Nothing would ever be the same again. We would never participate in public events such as sports, entertainment, airplane travel, or large venue happenings in quite the same way. Our national lives changed in the way a personal life changes after the death of a very close friend or family member. Everything is different the next day, the next month, and the next year, until the difference becomes the norm and we don’t feel the strangeness anymore. So when I first received my brother Eddie’s invitation on Facebook to attend a performance of a Patriot Day Concert on September 11th, I smiled, thought it was nice, and put it out of my head. It wasn’t until he called a few weeks later to ask if I could help him with the event that I took it seriously. Eddie was assisting his wife, Tamsen, who was the concertmaster of the event, and needed family reinforcements, so I agreed to help. For me, the event was not about national sentiment, but rather, about family need and support.
I’ve heard and read how many Americans claim to remember everything that happened on September 11th, 2001. I don’t. The day was a kaleidoscope of events, emotions, and scenes. I only remember:
The clearest memory of that morning was when I greeted Stephen, a sandy-haired, 8th grader who was also a student-office worker in the Main Office.
“Are we going to have regular classes today, Mr. Delgado”, he asked? “My mom is really worried”.
“Yes,” I assured him, “we’re having regular classes today, Stephen. As the Main Office gets more information about what’s going on, we’ll pass it on to the teachers, who will discuss it with you.”
“Okay”, he said, relieved. “I’ll tell my mom everything is fine.”
About 5 minutes later, I saw Stephen’s mother approaching me on the sidewalk at a fast pace.
“I know you told Stephen that everything is fine,” she began, breathlessly, “but I’m still worried. I’m not sure this is the safest place to be right now. I think I should have him home with me today.” Stephen’s mother also happened to be the PTA president, so I knew her question and concerns mirrored that of other parents, and that her actions and opinions could have a ripple effect on the feelings and actions of other parents and families.
“Linda”, I began, in the calmest and most confident tone I could muster, “your son is in the safest place he could be right now. He is in a structured and secure location that he knows, surrounded by friends and teachers who know him, care for him, and will protect him. He’s safer here than being alone at home, watching TV, or calling his friends to find out if they are at school. Believe me, Linda, especially today, this is the best place for Stephen and all our children.” I managed to calm her down and convince her that day, and she decided to let Stephen remain in school. Many months later, on Graduation Day in June, she brought that conversation to my attention again and presented me with a gift. I thanked her, but added that I was only doing my job.
Eddie and Tamsen’s Patriot Day Concert began with a salute to the service providers of the nation, those “first-responders” whose dedication to duty and service we rely on so much. They were represented by members of the Monrovia fire, police, and emergency health providers, who, garbed in their respective uniforms, suits, and equipment, carried in a memorial wreath to honor their fallen brethren who had responded to the calls for help on that fateful day. Two original works by Dr. David Stern, a local composer, teacher, and musician, comprised the first part of the program before intermission. The first piece was called, Lincoln Speaks of Liberty: “All Men Are Created Equal”, followed by his most performed orchestral work, written in response to the attack on New York, called We Stand for Freedom: In Memoriam, September 11th, 2001.
Lincoln’s timeless words, as narrated by my brother Eddie (Eduardo) seemed to establish the theme of the concert:
“The Fathers of the Republic said to the whole world: ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness’.
This was their majestic interpretation of the economy of the Universe.
This was their lofty, and wise, and noble understanding of the justice of the Creator to His creatures…
They erected a beacon to guide their children and their children’s children, and the countless myriad who should inhabit the earth in other ages…”
Eddie ended his narrative with this last admonishment from Lincoln:
“They established these great self-evident truths, so that when in the distant future some man, some faction, some interest, should set up the doctrine that none but rich men, or none but white men, were entitled to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, their posterity might look up again to the Declaration of Independence and take courage to renew the battle which their fathers began so that truth, and justice, and mercy, and all the humane and Christian virtues might not be extinguished from the land…”
Dr. Stern’s second orchestral piece redirected our attention to the 3000 American men and women who died on September 11.
The second part of the concert was more traditional in its selection of Dvorak’s New World Symphony 9, and it concluded with an uplifting rendition of Stars and Stripes Forever by John Phillip Sousa. Ending with a Sousa March was to be expected, but my curiosity over how Anton Dvorak’s symphony worked in conjunction with Stern’s early pieces prompted me to do a Wikipedia search when I got home. I learned that Dvorak wrote this popular symphony while director of the National Conservatory of Music of America in 1893, and that he was supposedly inspired by the hope and opportunities provided by America’s freedom and its “wide open spaces”. The symphony became sufficiently representative of America that Neil Armstrong took a recording of the New World Symphony to the Moon during the Apollo 11 mission in 1969.
Eddie and Tamsen’s Patriot Day Concert was not what I expected. I had feared a militant music celebration, filled with rousing wartime appeals for patriotism and sacrifice. Instead, what I saw and heard was a salute to the best of American values, American ideals, and American service. The main message of the concert was encapsulated in Lincoln’s words, that Patriots Day renews our belief and faith that “truth, and justice, and mercy, and all the humane and Christian virtues might not be extinguished from the land”. These are our values, our beliefs, and the basis of our way of life.
In We Stand For Freedom, David Stern reminded us that the people who died on 9/11 were ordinary Americans doing their jobs, providing their services, and living their lives. The music didn’t portray them as heroic figures, but simply as men and women who were martyred because they represented a way of life whose values and beliefs another group saw as a threat to their own. Many Americans, in referring to these victims use the phrase, “lest we forget”. I always took that phrase as a call for “justice”, which for some people is code for vengeance. I suppose that’s why I avoided going to these concerts, believing they would be vehicles to stoke the flames of revenge. But, there was no hint of anger, or a desire for retaliation in Dr. Stern’s music, or in Dvorak’s symphony – just sounds of loss and sadness, ending with a flourish of American hope. Hope that the pain and trauma of this tragedy would eventually diminish to a bearable level so we could continue forward. As President George W. Bush expressed it in his original proclamation, “Americans have fought back against terror by choosing to overcome evil with good. By loving their neighbor, as they would like to be loved”.
And their children’s children,
And the countless myriad
Who should inhabit the earth in other ages.
(Abraham Lincoln: Bloomington Speech – 1852)
On this first observance of Patriot Day
We remember and honor those who perished
In the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001.
We will not forget the events of that terrible morning
Nor will we forget how Americans responded
In New York, at the Pentagon,
And in the skies over Pennsylvania
With heroism and selflessness;
With compassion and courage;
And with prayer and hope.
(Presidential Proclamation: George W. Bush – 2002)
I never thought I’d attend a 9/11 Memorial Concert. I usually ignore all the citywide events, and the concerts, memorials, and specials on TV and radio. I was stunned by the scenes and events of that day in September in 2001, and never felt the need to relive it. I was the principal of Van Nuys Middle School on the day the Twin Towers fell in New York, and the father of a family on that day when life in America changed forever. Nothing would ever be the same again. We would never participate in public events such as sports, entertainment, airplane travel, or large venue happenings in quite the same way. Our national lives changed in the way a personal life changes after the death of a very close friend or family member. Everything is different the next day, the next month, and the next year, until the difference becomes the norm and we don’t feel the strangeness anymore. So when I first received my brother Eddie’s invitation on Facebook to attend a performance of a Patriot Day Concert on September 11th, I smiled, thought it was nice, and put it out of my head. It wasn’t until he called a few weeks later to ask if I could help him with the event that I took it seriously. Eddie was assisting his wife, Tamsen, who was the concertmaster of the event, and needed family reinforcements, so I agreed to help. For me, the event was not about national sentiment, but rather, about family need and support.
I’ve heard and read how many Americans claim to remember everything that happened on September 11th, 2001. I don’t. The day was a kaleidoscope of events, emotions, and scenes. I only remember:
- Kathy waking me up and saying there was something wrong happening on TV.
- Hearing conflicting reports on the television newscast about a high-rise fire in the Twin Tower Building in New York, or of an airplane accident in that city.
- Feeling annoyed and worried about the lack of factual information, and the seemingly wild speculations being offered by the announcers. The school year had just begun, and chaotic or panic inducing misinformation would be difficult to manage without well-established procedures and plans already in place.
- Seeing smoke rising from one of the twin towers on TV and believing it was simply a high-rise fire.
- Hearing the report that a plane had crashed into the Pentagon.
- Seeing the tape of a second plane crashing into another tower.
- Showering for work and wondering what was going on in New York and Washington D.C.
- Driving to school and hearing that all airline flights were cancelled and airborne planes ordered to land.
- Hearing the concern, anxiety, and fear in the voices of teachers and staff as they reported to work in the main office.
- Standing out in front of the school where parents could see me, and where children could question me as they arrived at school: “Is there school today, Mr. Delgado? What’s happening, Mr. Delgado? Are we safe? Are we being attacked, Mr. Delgado?”
The clearest memory of that morning was when I greeted Stephen, a sandy-haired, 8th grader who was also a student-office worker in the Main Office.
“Are we going to have regular classes today, Mr. Delgado”, he asked? “My mom is really worried”.
“Yes,” I assured him, “we’re having regular classes today, Stephen. As the Main Office gets more information about what’s going on, we’ll pass it on to the teachers, who will discuss it with you.”
“Okay”, he said, relieved. “I’ll tell my mom everything is fine.”
About 5 minutes later, I saw Stephen’s mother approaching me on the sidewalk at a fast pace.
“I know you told Stephen that everything is fine,” she began, breathlessly, “but I’m still worried. I’m not sure this is the safest place to be right now. I think I should have him home with me today.” Stephen’s mother also happened to be the PTA president, so I knew her question and concerns mirrored that of other parents, and that her actions and opinions could have a ripple effect on the feelings and actions of other parents and families.
“Linda”, I began, in the calmest and most confident tone I could muster, “your son is in the safest place he could be right now. He is in a structured and secure location that he knows, surrounded by friends and teachers who know him, care for him, and will protect him. He’s safer here than being alone at home, watching TV, or calling his friends to find out if they are at school. Believe me, Linda, especially today, this is the best place for Stephen and all our children.” I managed to calm her down and convince her that day, and she decided to let Stephen remain in school. Many months later, on Graduation Day in June, she brought that conversation to my attention again and presented me with a gift. I thanked her, but added that I was only doing my job.
Eddie and Tamsen’s Patriot Day Concert began with a salute to the service providers of the nation, those “first-responders” whose dedication to duty and service we rely on so much. They were represented by members of the Monrovia fire, police, and emergency health providers, who, garbed in their respective uniforms, suits, and equipment, carried in a memorial wreath to honor their fallen brethren who had responded to the calls for help on that fateful day. Two original works by Dr. David Stern, a local composer, teacher, and musician, comprised the first part of the program before intermission. The first piece was called, Lincoln Speaks of Liberty: “All Men Are Created Equal”, followed by his most performed orchestral work, written in response to the attack on New York, called We Stand for Freedom: In Memoriam, September 11th, 2001.
Lincoln’s timeless words, as narrated by my brother Eddie (Eduardo) seemed to establish the theme of the concert:
“The Fathers of the Republic said to the whole world: ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness’.
This was their majestic interpretation of the economy of the Universe.
This was their lofty, and wise, and noble understanding of the justice of the Creator to His creatures…
They erected a beacon to guide their children and their children’s children, and the countless myriad who should inhabit the earth in other ages…”
Eddie ended his narrative with this last admonishment from Lincoln:
“They established these great self-evident truths, so that when in the distant future some man, some faction, some interest, should set up the doctrine that none but rich men, or none but white men, were entitled to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, their posterity might look up again to the Declaration of Independence and take courage to renew the battle which their fathers began so that truth, and justice, and mercy, and all the humane and Christian virtues might not be extinguished from the land…”
Dr. Stern’s second orchestral piece redirected our attention to the 3000 American men and women who died on September 11.
The second part of the concert was more traditional in its selection of Dvorak’s New World Symphony 9, and it concluded with an uplifting rendition of Stars and Stripes Forever by John Phillip Sousa. Ending with a Sousa March was to be expected, but my curiosity over how Anton Dvorak’s symphony worked in conjunction with Stern’s early pieces prompted me to do a Wikipedia search when I got home. I learned that Dvorak wrote this popular symphony while director of the National Conservatory of Music of America in 1893, and that he was supposedly inspired by the hope and opportunities provided by America’s freedom and its “wide open spaces”. The symphony became sufficiently representative of America that Neil Armstrong took a recording of the New World Symphony to the Moon during the Apollo 11 mission in 1969.
Eddie and Tamsen’s Patriot Day Concert was not what I expected. I had feared a militant music celebration, filled with rousing wartime appeals for patriotism and sacrifice. Instead, what I saw and heard was a salute to the best of American values, American ideals, and American service. The main message of the concert was encapsulated in Lincoln’s words, that Patriots Day renews our belief and faith that “truth, and justice, and mercy, and all the humane and Christian virtues might not be extinguished from the land”. These are our values, our beliefs, and the basis of our way of life.
In We Stand For Freedom, David Stern reminded us that the people who died on 9/11 were ordinary Americans doing their jobs, providing their services, and living their lives. The music didn’t portray them as heroic figures, but simply as men and women who were martyred because they represented a way of life whose values and beliefs another group saw as a threat to their own. Many Americans, in referring to these victims use the phrase, “lest we forget”. I always took that phrase as a call for “justice”, which for some people is code for vengeance. I suppose that’s why I avoided going to these concerts, believing they would be vehicles to stoke the flames of revenge. But, there was no hint of anger, or a desire for retaliation in Dr. Stern’s music, or in Dvorak’s symphony – just sounds of loss and sadness, ending with a flourish of American hope. Hope that the pain and trauma of this tragedy would eventually diminish to a bearable level so we could continue forward. As President George W. Bush expressed it in his original proclamation, “Americans have fought back against terror by choosing to overcome evil with good. By loving their neighbor, as they would like to be loved”.
