Remember Beslan

I am late in posting this, but the memories just came surging back.

Here is an excerpt from Wikipedia, for those who may be unfamiliar with the tragedy:

"The Beslan school hostage crisis (also referred to as the Beslan school siege or Beslan Massacre) began when a group of armed Chechen separatists/Islamic fundamentalists^[1] took more than 1,200 schoolchildren and adults hostage on September 1, 2004, at School Number One (SNO) in the town of Beslan, North Ossetia-Alania, (an autonomous republic in the North Caucasus region of the Russian Federation). On the third day of the standoff, a chaotic gunbattle broke out between the hostage-takers and Russian security forces. 334 civilians were killed,^[2] including 186 children^[3] and hundreds more were wounded."

I was in Germany when the hostage crisis took place. On the first day of the new school year in Russia terrorists took this school and 1200 children with their parents hostage, in the name of Chechnian freedom. I watched for days as children suffered and were killed. The Russian government completely bungled the negotiations and rescue efforts. It was horrible. Some of the terrorists were women. Possibly mothers. Yet they killed other mothers and their children. Why? I do not understand this insanity in the name of God or Country.

So when September rolls around, we must remember the victims of 9/11, but we must also remember all the other victims of terrorism in the world as well.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beslan_school_hostage_crisis

6 years ago today...

I was living in Frankfurt, Germany. My first baby was only 3 weeks old, and I was trying to adjust to motherhood. Honestly it wasn't that hard, as this fierce, overwhelming love, more intense than anything I had ever felt before, was carrying me through. It was afternoon in Germany, when my husband called home to say that 2 airplanes had crashed into the Twin Towers. I thought he was mistaken, there was no way such a thing could happen. Maybe one small plane, but two? I rushed to turn on the TV, my baby in my arms, then sank to the couch in shock.

I spent the next several hours on that couch, switching back and forth between CNN and BBC, trying to learn, trying to understand what happened. It was only 6 am on the West Coast where my family lived, but I called and woke them up; "turn on the TV" I told my sleepy mother. We cried together on the phone.

The thoughts I remember from that day are those of a new mother who only wishes for her child to have a safe world to grow up in. I grieved for those lost, and the ones who lost them. I was angered that anyone could have such a callous disregard for life. I was also scared. Scared because Bush was in office. Scared that his reaction would lead to another World War. Scared because my home was just minutes away from one of the financial centers of Europe, and if an attack were to come to Germany we could be in danger. Scared because I was an American on foreign soil. Scared because I didn't want my baby to grow up in a world where strangers would kill strangers over ideology...

Now, 6 years later I look back to find that only some of my fears came to pass. But I think the potential for world-wide disaster is still near. For me, today is a day to remember the innocent people who lost their lives, and it is also a day to remember that it is fear, hatred, and zelotism which caused those losses. It may sound idealistic, it may sound naive, but wouldn't the best way to honor the victims of terrorism be to find world peace?