Osama Bin laden is dead. Ironically, I type those words with mixed emotions. Don't get me wrong, he deserved to die, but who am I to make that choice. You see, Bin Laden did just that, he played God twice on US soil (93' 01'), once on the USS Cole, and countless other times around the world. For 20 years or more he's used his fortune to fund global terrorism that although was focused on non Muslims, was not specific to them. For 10 years Bin Laden has been running like a rat, scurrying from cave to cave, country to country, trying to evade the fury of a scorned and battered Lady Liberty. But three days ago, his days of running ended with a single bullet to the head. One single bullet makes the ending to this murderer's saga almost anti-climactic. Like many others around the country, around the world, I'll remember for the rest of my life where I was when I first heard that his days of reigning terror were over. I immediately thought of those whose loved ones didn't get a choice. I thought of that horrific video of those terrified people climbing out of hell and onto the narrow and unforgiving ledge of the Twin Towers billowing smoke on that gorgeous Tuesday morning. I thought of those people on those doomed planes, knowing intuitively that their time on Earth was ending, having the presence of mind to use their phones to leave one last short and simple message of "I Love You" to their spouses answering machine. I thought of those heroic firefighters climbing the stairway to certain death after one building had already collasped in hopes of rescuing just one more innocent victim. I thought of all those mothers and fathers, husbands and wives, that had military personnel show up at their doorstep as they explained that their loved ones wouldn't return. Sunday night, I was proud of our President. I was so proud of the courageous efforts of our entire military, showing resilience and heroism for the last ten years as they fought in a storm of unforgiving terrain and uncertainty. I felt as proud to be an American as I did on September 12, when we stood, unified, on smoking rubble, determined to rise from the ashes. Unfortunately, the elation I felt from ridding the world of it's most prolific and accomplished cancer was short lived. I remember sitting at work on September 11, 2001, watching, as the world was, events unfolding that were beyond comprehension. I watched the streets of New York, D.C., and everywhere else around the country, blend as one. That day, enemies cast their differences aside. Muslims and Jews stood hand in hand with Christians, linking a chain of unified diversity that the world had never seen. I remember the feeling of being proud to be an American. As news of Towers crumbling circled around the world, countries cheered, burning American flags and singing praises of death and destruction. People danced in the streets while we hung up pictures of missing loved ones and wiped away tears from our blackened ashen faces. That was a hatred I couldn't conceptualize. I could only feel sorry for them. I felt sorry that they were so ingrained to be misguided, so ingrained to hate, that they would never have a clear line of sight to reality or real freedom. Freedom. The one word that made our country so special, yet ironically, the one word that caused unprecedented contempt. I felt so lucky to be a part of a nation that after enduring such hellish tragedy and murder, we stood proud, faithful, and focused, regardless of our religions, our skin colors, or our backgrounds. Sunday night, after crowds gathered outside the White House and began to cheer the death of Osama Bin Laden, we began to resemble those countries that left me scratching my head on September 11, 2001. You see, no matter what kind of animal Bin Laden was, as we cheer and chant in celebration, the death and destruction of another human being, we become instantaneously, no better than our enemies. If you closed your eyes, it would be hard to distinguish the difference between the streets of Afghanistan on Sept 11 2001 and Pennsylvania Ave June 2 2011 I know we're better than celebrating death in our streets. We've spent 10 years managing the holes of emptiness left by the callous hands of Bin Laden and his disciples. We've slowly become numb to war, to destruction, and slowly, we've forgotten how badly our souls were wounded that morning in September; however, more important than anything, we can't forget our resolve and our honor. We can't forget what makes us special. We can't allow ourselves to relinquish the hope and freedom that comes with being American, only to replace it with the hatred and contempt of our enemies. Our country deserves better. Its people are better.
