The Previous Generation's Days of Fear

We all remember that day in September, 10 years ago – where we were, what we were doing.

I was sitting at my desk in mid-town Manhattan, watching CNN with my officemates in disbelief. Of course, we all originally thought it was a plane accident, until the second plane hit, and we all knew something bigger was going on.

It was terrifying. I knew I didn't want to stay at my office, but the railroad and other transportation were all closed down. I couldn't get home. Some of us made a decision just to get out of the office. I headed uptown with my coworker to her apartment, to wait until the trains were running again.

As we walked along, we could smell the smoke, and we saw small groups of people congregating on the streets, talking about what had happened and what might continue to happen. I felt like a character in Stephen King's The Stand, where crowds of people moved along, trying to get away from whatever horrible virus was killing them.

This truly was a terrifying day. My former manager's son was killed, my daughter's teacher's husband among the dead as well. But I remember so well another such day from my childhood that damaged my early years, and that feeling has never left me.

As a child in New York City, because of the constant looming threat posed by the Cold War, we were required to wear dog tags at school, identifying each of us should there be a nuclear attack. At the time, I had no idea what the tags were for, and I am not sure that the "take cover" drills we had in school, where we had to jump under our desks and face away from the windows with our hands over our heads, made much of a fearful impression either (although I remember this very clearly).

But I was sure that there would be an imminent World War III which would end the world. I even wrote about in our class newspaper, and I still have that article.

But what finally did terrify me was October, 1962, the Cuban Missile Crisis. President Kennedy took an enormous risk in facing down the Russians, but I knew I was going to sleep that last night and never wake up. The world was going to end, and I was just a child! I would never experience adulthood, marriage, parenthood, the work world.

The Russians, of course, backed down, the Cold War eventually ended, the Berliln Wall, was torn down and the world would be - had to be, finally - a safer place. Our enemies got weaker, we got stronger, and yet now ...

We don't have countries to negotiate with. We have rogue groups who are full of hatred and envy, and they are not frightened by our strength and power.

So, that same feeling of terror that severely scarred my childhood lives on. "Ding dong, the witch is dead," but there always seems to be another witch – bigger and "badder."