I remember when the song “Have You Forgotten?” by Darryl Worley came out. The reaction from the leftists was predictable: “Of course we haven’t forgotten!”
In retrospect, I think they were right. They can’t forget that which they never learned.
On the other hand, I can’t forget. Though the impact on my life was minimal, I still felt like I had been punched in the gut (and I do know what that really feels like). My country was wounded. I doubt any of these pathetic trans-national, post-national, globalist, statist, progressive pigs know what that feels like.
Breathes there the man with soul so dead
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land!
Whose heart hath ne’er within him burned,
As home his footsteps he hath turned
From wandering on a foreign strand!
If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no minstrel raptures swell;
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonored , and unsung.
from “The Lay of the Last Minstrel”
by Sir Walter Scott
As midnight approached, to bring in the 11th, I felt increasingly somber.
Nine years later, 9/11 still makes me feel like I had the breath knocked out of me. I made it through most of the day fine, but I’m not ashamed to say that I did weep once.
I remember. I will not forget. I can’t forget.