Record current issue Presidential Debate
Gargoyle

  -  Faculty Experts


  -  News by Topic

  -  News by School


Search News & Info


WUSTL in the News
  - Powered by Google


WUSTL Home

Public Affairs Home

News
Releases

University News

Medical News

Sports News

Radio Service

Tip Sheets

Business, Law & Econ

Culture & Living

Science & Technology
Media Resources
Contact Information

TV/Radio Studio

Visiting Our Campuses

Campus Images

Sports photography
Commercial Filming
   and Photography


Commercial Use of
   Names and Symbols

Domain Name policy
WUSTL Information
Record (newspaper)

Campus Calendars

WUSTL News Summary

Publications Online

Facts, Guides & Maps


9/11 memory and love

Frank Flinn comments on 9/11 memories and love


Source: Frank K. Flinn's Web site. - (314) 935-5576
Related: Brief biography of Frank K. Flinn

[St. Louis, Mo., 9-10-02] - Frank K. Flinn, adjunct professor of religious studies at Washington University in St. Louis and a noted authority on religious thought and expression, comments on his experience of 9/11 and his hope that love will flourish in wake of terror and destruction.

9/11 memory and love

By Frank K. Flinn

Frank K. Flinn
Frank K. Flinn
On the morning of September 11, 2001, I was on a Delta Airlines flight from Barcelona to Atlanta. About 10:00 a.m. New York time I sensed that the plane was loosing altitude. I opened the shade and saw full sunlight directly out the window. I deduced that the plane was no longer heading toward the American coastline. In fact it was headed north. Soon I spotted some islands. Having once landed at this spot in the Atlantic Ocean, I deduced again that the plane was going to land in the Azores. The plane was flying well, so I guessed that something else was going on. Maybe a hijacking I thought.

At that moment, the captain's voice came over the speaker system. "We are all right," he assured us, "nothing is wrong with the plane. We are going to be landing shortly. You are to exit the plane as quickly as possible. The stewards and stewardesses will assist you in this. Once we are in the waiting room, I will explain everything to you."

The woman traveling in the seat next to me was returning from a pilgrimage to San Juan Compostela. We had talked of spiritual things prior to the announcement. At that moment we held hands and said the Lord's Prayer together. The plane landed and parked at the end of the runway. We were all hustled into the waiting room of the airport. Then the captain told us what had happened in New York and that our plane was being checked for a bomb.

We made our way into the airport restaurant just as the crumbling towers of the World Trade Center flickered over Portuguese television. We gaped in horror. Some of us who had been to New York a lot wondered how many perished with the buildings' collapse. To this day, as my sadness for those lost deepens, I marvel that so many escaped.

Travelers were frantically trying to reach loved ones. Many were calling New York. Those with cell phones kindly reached theirs to those without. The captain and the crew marshaled all the local people they could to make sure we had a place to eat and stay that night. The next morning I woke early and walked in grief to a church to meditate, but it was locked, so I sat on the steps. That afternoon we were flown back to Madrid. I did not make it home until late Friday.

As I watched TV in Madrid over the Spanish, German and French channels it became clear that Al Qaeda was involved and my inner self quaked at the possibility of worldwide religious war. But reporters started talking of something extraordinary that had taken place. Just at the moment when victims were aware that they could or were about to die, their last words were "I love you." "It looks bad, I love you." "Take care of the kids, I love you." "Tell Grandma goodbye, I love you." "I love you." "I love you."

No words of revenge. No hatred. No resentment. Just "I love you." It happened everywhere, again and again. From the World Trade Center, from the plane that went down in Pennsylvania, from the Pentagon. "I love you."

In the coming months my thoughts of world affairs kept drifting toward the dark pit of hopelessness. My wife, Alice, kept calling me back. In January we went to New York. We took the subway to Ground Zero. Amid the throng of people we quietly said the prayer of St. Francis, "Lord, make me a channel of your peace." I turned toward the cranes and dust wafting up from the hole of devastation and an inner voice spoke to me, "Love won a great victory here." It is this lesson that has kept me from despair.

Today I pray that this great lesson does not get overwhelmed. Too quickly our leaders have deflected our attention from love to patriotism, and revenge and war in a kind of mindless militarism. But that is not the message those who lost most left us. They taught us that the only way to conquer the hatred that showed its gaping maw on September 11 is to learn to love, to learn to continue to love. Gandhi once said true patriotism is love of your neighbor, even if your neighbor is a Jew, a Muslim, a Hindu, a Christian, or someone who has no belief at all. "I love you" is stronger than all the hatred the world can spew forth and it is the only way the pain of the world will be healed. "I love you."

________________________________________________________________________

Frank K. Flinn is adjunct professor of religious studies at Washington University in St. Louis. In the spring semester he led a seminar on religion and violence.

Editor's Note: Frank Flinn, a noted authority on religious thought and expression, makes the following commentary available for free and immediate publication on a non-exclusive basis. Flinn is available for questions and discussion regarding this commentary and other news issues: 314-935-7752; fkflinn@artsci.wustl.edu.

News & Information Home  |   Office of Public Affairs  |   WUSTL Home

Please contact us and let us know how we can assist you.
Technical problems with this Web site? Please contact news_bugs@aismail.wustl.edu.
Please review the WUSTL News & Information copyright/privacy policy.