The Platform (Blog)

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Holden Village Retreat

This summer I had planned on spending an abundance of time on my myriad of writing projects but I had forgotten how distracting summer sunshine can be. Between camping trips, kayaking, family parties, and church events, my summer writing time has just slipped away. While I may not have spent as much time as I would have liked inside on my computer working, I can’t say my time was wasted.

One of the primary activities I had scheduled for this summer was a week long trip to Holden Village with several members of my church family. I knew this trip would be one of renewal and inspiration even though I’d never been to Holden before.

Holden Village was once a small copper mining town located deep in the North Cascade Mountains. Long after the mine closed, the village was turned over to a Lutheran school and has since been used as a spiritual retreat center. To say it is remote is an understatement. Getting to Holden requires a drive up the shores of Lake Chelan, a two hour boat ride to Lucerne, then a ten mile bus ride up a mountain and deep into the wilderness.

Holden is off the grid literally. They draw and treat their water from Copper Creek and operate their own hydroelectric plant. There is zero cell reception, no television, minimal internet (barely enough to check your email on a computer located in the village library), and almost no way for guests to reach the outside world during their stay.

Guest accommodations are simple rustic lodge rooms complete with a sink and mice if you don’t seal up your food. Bathrooms are communal and located on each floor. Meals are served cafeteria style in the dining hall and the menu is largely vegetarian. Several days a week the village operates a snack bar where guests can buy ice cream provided you schedule your activities when the bar is open.

Lodge 4 at Holden Village

Every evening at Holden Village, a vespers service is held where the entire community gathers for a short time. Announcements are made and blessings are given to new arrivals and those about to depart.

My first few days at Holden I carried my phone around with me out of habit. I took pictures with it but I don’t generally take a lot of photos with my phone. After a few days I noticed I began to leave my phone behind. I did not miss it.

I spent my time attending sessions with speakers from around the world who gave insight and twists on bible stories I’d heard since I was a kid. I ate meals with my extended church family. I went hiking and explored the natural area around the village. I played board games and sang songs.

With each passing day, I felt renewed and refreshed. I was eager for the next day, not because it put me one step closer to eventually going home, but because I had no idea what the next day would teach me about myself, my family, and our place in the larger world.

I saw an abundance of deer and ground squirrels. I saw what wildfire can do to a forest. I saw bears. I saw the efforts of a major mining company in their cleanup of Railroad Creek which had been contaminated by the old copper mine. I saw new life. I saw the stars.

While I was eager to return home for some much needed protein I really didn’t want to return to the greater world. I didn’t want to return to news of shootings, injustice, corruption and pollution. I found such peace and tranquility in those mountains and sometimes the real world sucks.

Reentry was an adjustment but I was only gone a week so it wasn’t long before my phone was back in my pocket at all times and I was in the grove of my normal routine. Yet a piece of Holden has stayed with me. I don’t know how long I can keep that spark inside lit but I hope to share with you a few of the things I picked up on my pilgrimage. Stay tuned for more about my trip to Holden in the coming weeks.

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Fake News

IMG_4990So recently I was told I was un-American for my political views, that I disrespect the code of having served my country and that I am in fact turning against it. This was from a woman I don’t believe I’ve ever actually met nor had a conversation with. A mutual friend on Facebook had posted a political meme (you know, those pictures with quotes on them) and it was patently false. It was what I would consider the very definition of fake news.

I did a quick internet search and verified the quote was entirely made up then remarked how many of my Republican friends often share memes and posts that tell a story very different from the truth. In short, I called my friend out for sharing “fake news”. This woman saw my comment and immediately made the assumption that I somehow supported what the meme stated (for the record is said Democrats believed social security was a right for illegal immigrants). I don’t know why she made that assumption so in my reply to her comment, I reiterated the meme was false and encouraged her to do her own research to find the truth for herself; to not take my word for it alone. Based on her reply after that, she did not take my advice and made further disparaging remarks about my character.

I think the part that surprised me most was that after a full day, my “friend” still had the post on her wall. Now if it were me and I posted something I believed to be true but later found out was false, I wouldn’t be able to get that post down fast enough! Is that because I value the truth more than this friend of mine? I hope that’s not the case.

I am supremely careful about what I share on my newsfeed because I don’t want to be the source of propaganda or misinformation. I recognize how dangerous that can be because I actually had to read books like Orwell’s 1984 when I was in school; it made an impression. I was taught in the Navy that integrity is what you do when no one is looking. The bible very clearly tells us “Do not lie” and to “rejoice in the truth.”

What I am seeing with this woman who said some pretty terrible things about me, is a trend among Americans where they’d rather stay with their own beliefs, however false, than challenge their preconceptions. Whether because of propaganda or xenophobia, I am seeing more and more people become entrenched in one side or the other, forgetting that there really are no sides if we are to remain one country; e pluribus unum.

To my friends who are Democrats, not all Republicans are bad and not all of them share the same ideological beliefs as the leader of their party. To all my Republican friends, I would encourage you to really consider what it is the Democratic party advocates for (and doesn’t advocate for) and not jump to conclusions based on your own bias or preconceptions. Maybe, just maybe, the divide between parties isn’t so great.

When I took my oath back in 1999 to defend my country, it was from all enemies foreign and domestic. Right now I believe misinformation is our greatest enemy of all and while I no longer wear the uniform of a United States sailor, I still consider myself under oath.

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The Trike Project

Toby's Trike 16"There’s no question, my six year old nephew is stubborn. Everything happens in Toby time and God forbid any one of us should rush him along. One of his favorite things to do is ride around on his trike. He has enjoyed ride-on toys since he could walk and it’s not unusual for him to come home with bleeding feet after a day riding around the block. You see, he often rides barefoot and refuses to use pedals.

As I mentioned, he is six years old and growing. Most trikes and ride on toys aren’t designed for kids his age. Six-year-old’s are on bicycles with or without training wheels. But Toby isn’t most kids. Training wheels don’t sit level with the ground so the bike teeters and that slight motion is too much for Toby’s comfort level. Since he doesn’t like to pedal, the crank on a bike just gets in his way. Even the pedals of his trike, which are mounted on the front wheel, bruise his legs as they spin. He prefers the “Flintstone” style of using his feet to push off the ground. He wants a trike, so how do I get him a trike big enough?

I scoured the internet figuring if something exists, it’s out there. Mostly, I came away with disappointment. There are a few trikes manufactured for adults which are expensive. There are a few companies that make trikes for disabled or developmentally delayed or impaired children but again the cost is prohibitive.

In searching online for a trike, I did come across numerous conversion kits. Apparently converting a standard bike into a trike is a thing people do. Again these kits cost more than I wanted to spend. After all, he will only be riding this thing for a summer or two before he grows out of it.

What I needed was a three wheeled ride on vehicle without pedals big enough for Toby and they don’t exist. I was going to have to make one.

I started with a basic kid’s bike. My sister had two of them that were the same size, one of which (a Barbie themed bike) wasn’t being used anymore. The other was Toby’s older brother Jackson’s Cars themed bike (Auntie has to get him a new bike for his birthday now). Between those two bikes, I had the wheels and a good frame. I just needed to figure out how to attach two wheels to the rear of the frame.

20190610_154147Eventually I figured all I really needed was a long axle rod that I could put two wheels on. Amazon was the only place I could find the right size threaded rod (3/8” rod with 24 threads per inch). After getting a few nuts from the hardware store, I was ready to go!

I started by stripping everything off the frame of the Cars bike. I took the wheels off, the crank, and the chain. I attached the 2 foot threaded rod to the frame where the original rear tire went and secured it with nuts and lock washers.

20190610_154131I had to study how rear wheels worked on children’s bikes. They have what is called a coaster brake in the hub assembly. When the rider attempts to pedal backwards the rear wheel stops, acting as a brake. This means there are extra parts in the hub assembly I had to account for when putting the wheel on the new axle. While front wheels are super simple, the axle rod they spin on is smaller than the rear wheel axle. I figured that out pretty quickly when I tried to put the Barbie front wheel on the rear axle of the Cars trike.

I took the rear wheel from the Barbie bike and painted it black so it better matched the two wheels from the Cars bike. I was able to attach both rear wheels to the new axle (I re-greased all the bearings for good measure). To my delight, it worked! The wheels spun freely and the new trike appeared stable!

20190610_155421So I get the new trike over to Toby and…it’s TOO BIG! The bikes my sister had were 16” (wheel diameter) and Toby is just a little too short. Even with the seat lowered all the way, his feet didn’t quite touch the ground.

I was a bit disappointed but I had my prototype and proof of concept. I’m now in the process of doing it all again, this time with 12” bikes.

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Finding my Voice

NaNoWriMo2018In November of 2018 I wrote like a mad woman for National Novel Writing Month. I wrote more than 50 thousand words and was exhausted creatively when the month was over. I knew it wouldn’t take long to recharge my batteries though. Once the winter holidays were over, I’d get right back into it.

The best laid plans..

Shortly before Christmas, the Pacific Northwest was hit with a wind storm that knocked down a portion of our backyard fence. This was the second year in a row we had a section go down. While we were making repairs, we turned on the outside hose bib to mix some cement for the new posts. Ten minutes later, we discovered our kitchen had been completely flooded; our hardwood floors ruined! I had neglected to remove the hose from the bib prior to the first winter freeze and a crack had developed downstream of the isolation valve but inside the kitchen wall. Calls were made and a claim was filed with the insurance but little could be done until the New Year.

On New Year’s Day my husband and I were cleaning up dinner when my phone rang. It was my aunt and she was hysterical. My brother Eric was found dead in his basement apartment. He was only four years older than me. We raced to the place he was living and were greeted with blue flashing police lights. I was the first on scene but the rest of my family soon arrived. Shock and grief ripped through all of us as we tried to sort out what had happened, who had talked to him last, and what had possibly been the cause of his death.

The next day was my birthday and the day a crew came to my house to tear up our damaged kitchen floor. My family once again gathered and we went through what little my brother had. He was the definition of minimalist. What few possessions he had were brought to my house where they would sit in our garage until we were ready to fully process what to do with them. That evening we gathered in my living room and sat as fans droned on drying out my damaged floor.

Eric SketchMy writing skills were put to use when it came time for the eulogy. How could I possibly find the words that matched the giant of a man my brother was? How could I, the sister who knew him least, capture his life in a short speech? Somehow I found the words and I hope I did Eric proud.

I didn’t feel much like writing anything after that. A snow storm in February shut almost everything down in the Northwest. My flooring material was stuck somewhere unable to be delivered and repairs were delayed.

In March my youngest nephew went in for open heart surgery; the last in a three stage reconstruction. I was one of two people who would tag team his 24/7 care while he remained in patient at Seattle Children’s Hospital. Six weeks would pass before he would get to go home. Somehow during that time, our floors were finally replaced.

I still didn’t feel much like writing. So much had happened and life just wouldn’t return to normal. Things did settle down in April and May gave us a chance to breathe again. After two long camping trips, I feel that perhaps now, I am recharged enough to find my voice and once again write.

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NaNoWriMo Recap

To achieve victory during National Novel Writing Month, a writer must write 50 thousand words of a story within the month of November. I’ll be honest, I was sure I could get it done with time to spare. After all, I was prepared and churning out only 50k at less than 1700 words a day seemed like a piece of cake.

I started out strong writing more than the required number of words during the first week of November. In fact, I was on track to finish in half the allotted time! Of course life has a way of creeping in and wreaking havoc on the best laid plans. Commitments to family, friends, and church often pulled me from my keyboard and there were days where my word count was next to nothing. Never the less, I persisted!

From November 1st through the 29th, I made progress every day. Some days I had nothing but time and the words flowed effortlessly; others I had just a few minutes to sit down and craft my story and nothing sounded good. As the days and weeks passed I began to wonder if I’d ever get to the 50k mark.

I outlined my novel prior to NaNo. I had detailed character biographies and a thorough understanding of the story I wanted to tell. Half way through week two I reached the end of my outline and the end of my first pass of the novel. I had just over 23k words. How was I going to reach 50k for the month if I was already at the end and not even half way there? I persisted, and it wasn’t easy.

I went back to the beginning of my story and cleaned up the language, added more description, slowed some of the scenes down a bit so my readers would gain better insight into my characters. With pass 2 completed I was somewhere around 35k words. Still not at the 50k mark but getting closer.

With pass three I looked at every storyline to make sure each had the attention it needed. I added scenes to show insight and change as my characters went through their plot points. I think I finished pass three somewhere near 41k words.

By this time I was in the last week of November and I needed nearly 2k a day to finish on time. I slowed the action scenes down and dove into my characters heads so my readers would feel everything my characters were feeling. 48.5k. I rewrote a major plot point, 49k, I added a scene 49.5k. I went back to the beginning again and worked through each chapter looking for places to enhance description or add witty dialog. Finally, on November 29th I reached 50,006 words. I kid you not; I finished the sentence and closed the document. My creative brain was zapped.

This is not my process. This is not how I usually write my stories. I outline then I write the sections that are most fun for me. Sometimes I can write anywhere from 3k to 5k words a day and when I get bored or creatively tapped out, I step away for days, weeks, sometimes months or even years before returning to a story. When I come back to it, I get excited again and spend several days adding 15-25k more to the story and again I leave it to stew until I’m ready to return. My usual method doesn’t yield quick results and it also explains why so few of my stories ever reach completion.

NaNoWriMo was a struggle for me, not because I couldn’t discipline myself to write every day, that was the easy part. It was hard to stay in the same story for a full month. To not only write it but to revise and edit along the way to get to a solid first draft was more challenging than I thought it would be. I learned a lot about how I write, how I should write, and how I can make it easier on myself in the future! I’m not sure I will do NaNo again but I believe in this case, it was definitely worth it. I have a completed first draft of a novel and that’s something I didn’t have a month ago!

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NaNoWriMo 2018

The first time I heard the term NaNoWriMo was a little over a year ago. I was sitting in a writer’s workshop and the woman next to me asked if I’d ever done it before. The workshop was filled with mostly novice writers and while I had spent years writing, I had no idea what she was talking about.

NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month. It takes place during the month of November where writers compete to write a manuscript for a novel. It’s more about competing against one’s self than other writers. Often the hardest part about writing a novel is setting aside the time to do the work. NaNoWriMo is designed so that writers from all over the world can feel empowered by other writers to get that first draft finished in 30 days. Aspiring novelists can sign up at the NaNoWriMo website where they can track their daily progress and get inspiration to help them forward. The ultimate goal is to have 50,000 words by the end of the month. The website has progress badges writers can earn as they work because honestly, anything helps when it comes to writing a novel length manuscript!

I have been kicking around a particular story concept for several years now and even went so far as to create a rudimentary outline of the basic plot points. In October I joined a writers group to help me keep focus on my writing and I shared a little about my story. The leader of the group suggested NaNoWriMo as the perfect opportunity to crank out the first draft. She was absolutely right. I have spent the time since then working on a much more detailed outline of my story as well as developing the characters and the world in which the story takes place. With those tools, I can now do the hard work of cranking out about 1,700 words a day through the month of November.

In two days I will begin my first NaNoWriMo challenge. If you don’t see me much in the real world during November, assume I’m writing! If you do see me, ask me how it’s going. I know the more encouragement (or nagging) I get, the more I am likely to stay on task and reach 50,000 words by the end of the month!

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This Too Shall Pass

No matter how big or how small the struggles I’ve faced in my life, my father’s words have echoed in my mind, “This too shall pass.”

When I learned of the swift confirmation and swearing in of Judge Kavanaugh I felt a great weight upon my heart. I began to question everything I thought I knew about my country. Many years ago I put on the uniform of a United States sailor and I always wore that uniform with pride. I served at a time when I didn’t agree with the politics of those in power but I felt what called us Americans meant we were all playing for the same team.

I don’t feel like that anymore. I feel the divide is deep and wide and not just among those elected to make decisions on our behalf. I feel the rift growing between families and neighbors who disagree on science, religion, and who should have rights when it comes to a woman and an unborn child. Where once we could agree to disagree, we now are entrenched and those who aren’t for us must be against us.

I try to remind myself that my act of service wasn’t for a government, it was for a people. Long ago I believed Americans were worth dying for and I took an oath to defend my country with my life. I was young and naive but I knew what I was doing. When the towers fell on 9/11 I was at the tip of the spear, ready to do my part in dishing out American justice for those lives taken. When I came home, I saw a country united where neighbors of all race and cultural backgrounds proudly displayed the flag that unifies us all.

Today I see athletes kneeling because the symbol of our nation no longer matches our vision. I see women marching, demanding they not only be heard, but believed. I see injustice everywhere as those with plenty get more and those with little get less. And I watch as my government plays party politics at the expense of our nation. We are not great, we are not great again, and if this is what winning looks like, I’d rather lose. If we were losing when we were defending freedom and justice for all, and if winning means ripping children from mother’s arms, praising Nazis for marching in our streets, and shaking hands with the world’s worst dictators, then we’ve lost our identity, we’ve lost what it means to stand up and defend the oppressed. We have become the enemy.

I’m not sure when our nation wandered down this road of division but I do know those who oppose liberty and justice are celebrating. We have done to ourselves what no foreign agent has been able to do, we are divided. This is not the country I swore and oath to defend.

And yet I again hear the wisdom of my father, “This too shall pass.” But I wonder, pass into what? Are we headed for civil war or a second revolution? Are we too far gone to bridge the chasm that separates our different cultural, religious, and social ideologies? I hope not. I hope very soon we can remember what we once stood for. I hope that out of our many voices, we can be one great nation. E pluribus unum.

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I Believe Her

Maybe because I’ve seen every episode of Law & Order: SVU. Maybe because I’ve listened to women I’ve known and loved recount their experiences with sexual assault. Maybe because Dr. Ford has given me no reason not to believe her.

I watched a well-educated composed woman recount her story. I watched as she answered questions to the best of her ability with no evasion. She was consistent in her testimony and has not wavered from it since making her allegation. She spoke intelligently and never let her emotions consume her. I saw courage and bravery as she told her truth to the highest levels of power. While she was short on broader details of the event, the specifics of the incident itself she recalled in great detail. When asked if there were any doubt as to who assaulted her, she responded with 100% certainty it was Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh.

I watched a well-educated man plead his innocence to the Senate committee and the American people. At first he was sympathetic, choking up when he spoke of his family. Yet as the hearing progressed, his privilege, sense of entitlement, and bias against the Democratic Party began to show. He failed to reign in his emotions numerous times, he interrupted and spoke over senators asking questions, and was often evasive. Allegation aside, this kind of behavior is unfit a Supreme Court Justice.

She said.

He Said.

For convictions in criminal cases in this country, the accused must be proven guilty by things like facts, evidence, and corroboration. If tried in a criminal court, I do not believe there is sufficient evidence to convict Judge Kavanaugh. A lack of evidence doesn’t mean a crime didn’t occur which is often the case with sexual assault. It’s also one of the many reasons cases like these go unreported. But Kavanugh isn’t on trial, not in the traditional sense. The Senate doesn’t have to convict Judge Kavanaugh of any crime, they only have to determine if his record and his personal character are worthy of confirmation as a Supreme Court Justice.

There is no doubt that both political parties in this country are playing politics in this case. The Democrats are using every tactic they can to delay Kavanaugh’s confirmation. It’s also clear a full and thorough investigation would do just that. The Republican Party shows more concern for balancing the highest court in their favor than getting to the truth. But all of that is noise meant to distract from the heart of the matter.

He said.

She said.

Who are we to believe? Is the alleged crime significant enough to disqualify Judge Kavanaugh from the Supreme Court? I believe attempted rape, no matter how long ago the incident occurred, is sufficient enough for disqualification. Is the accuser credible enough to be believed? I believe Dr. Ford is credible.

We are left with many unanswered questions and we may never know the whole truth. While Judge Kavanaugh may be presumed innocent of this allegation, that presumption does not mean he should be confirmed as the next Supreme Court Justice. When it comes to the highest court in this country, those seated there must be beyond reproach. Dr. Ford’s allegation and Judge Kavanaugh’s response to it show he does not meet that standard.

I believe her.

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Lake Easton to Snoqualmie Tunnel (and back again)

I had numerous adventures over the summer, many of which kept me outdoors and away from the keyboard. Now that life is returning to somewhat of a routine, I’d like to share some of them.

My husband and I each got a mountain bike this year. While I enjoy hiking, my husband prefers to get places a litter faster so we thought we’d give trail riding a try. One of the best cycling trails in the state of Washington is the “Palouse to Cascades State Park Trail”. I know, it’s a bit of a mouthful but locals might know it better by its old name, the “John Wayne Pioneer Trail”. The entire trail spans nearly 224 miles and was once a rail line.

Given we are both novice riders, we wanted to pick up the trail where we wouldn’t encounter too much trouble. We recently purchased a travel trailer and planned a trip to Lake Easton State Park. This park is located along the trail and was a perfect opportunity to check things out. Twenty miles west of Lake Easton along the trail is the 2-mile long Snoqualmie tunnel. We had hiked the tunnel before and thought someday it would be fun to ride through it on bikes.

This would be a 40-mile round trip excursion in one day and the distance was a little daunting. Like I said, we aren’t experienced riders and most of our trips had been less than ten miles up to this point.

We packed a lunch and loaded up our bikes. We were sure to bring lots of water as it was a warm August day when we made this trek!  We set out from our campsite and headed to the trail. That portion was probably the most difficult part of the trip. The lake is at a lower elevation than the trail so we had some elevation gain but it wasn’t too bad.

Once on the trail it was smooth riding westbound! The trail is packed gravel and wide enough for a car to drive so there was plenty of room for us to ride side by side or pass other hikers and cyclists. We didn’t see too many though on this midweek August day. We stopped a few times to take pictures, hydrate, and snack. Before long we arrived at Hyak, the trail head for the tunnel!

It was fun riding through the tunnel though I wish I had a stronger light on my bike as I couldn’t see too far ahead of me. While the rest of the trail may have been quiet, the tunnel portion had a lot more activity. A work crew had a truck inside and many hikers and bikers were there checking it out.

When we got to the other side, we stopped at a shaded picnic table and enjoyed our lunch. The table was located just outside the tunnel and the breeze coming from the tunnel was quite cool. By the time we finished our lunch and prepared to return to camp, I was getting cold.

We got on our bikes and headed back…it kinda sucked! Traveling eastbound through the tunnel was more difficult than we had anticipated. The tunnel remains pretty cold year round and we were going against the wind. Our muscles weren’t as loose thanks to the half-hour down time (though we did stretch before we headed back). By the time we reached the other end, we were very cold and stiff and couldn’t wait to get back into the sun!

We continued down the trail toward camp and I noticed I was riding in a higher gear. While the trail felt flat on the way to the tunnel, there was a very subtle change in elevation. The first ten miles back (30 miles into the trip) were pretty good. Our muscles had loosened up in the heat and it felt good to be riding. But eventually the total distance began to catch up with us.

Our water reserves were nearly depleted and our bodies were beginning to feel the strain we were putting on them. At no point were either of us winded from our exertion, our bodies just began to ache. The last five miles were quite difficult as I found I couldn’t find a comfortable riding position. My back and my arms were sore from the hours of essentially “leaning” on my handlebars.

We made it safely back to camp and vowed we would do more practice trips before we endeavored such a long ride again. While the last few miles may have been a struggle, I was glad we did it and we plan on doing it again next summer.

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Remembering 9-11

For those of us who lived through the events on that fateful day in September, we remember. We remember what it was like at airports, amusement parks, and sporting events. Security check points were minimal or simply didn’t exist. We could go to Disneyland without passing through a metal detector. We could go to a football game with any kind of bag. We could say goodbye to our friends and family at the boarding gate.

Whether you were alive on 9-11-2001 or born after, your life has been affected. Your perception of the world and your feelings of security have been influenced by the actions of a handful of hateful men.

Just last week I traveled to Boston for a funeral. The security checkpoint at Logan Airport was atrocious. I removed all of my electronics, all of my liquids, my shoes, my hat. When it was finally my turn to raise my arms in the machine that would scan every part of me, nearly an hour had passed since I’d gotten in line. My watch triggered the machine along with the metal snaps on the pants I was wearing. I was fortunate the TSA agent who patted me down was friendly. She told me where she would touch me and asked if I had any sensitivity in those areas. I have heard many horror stories of rigorous pat-downs and violations by aggressive agents. Thankfully my experience has been acceptable.

Last fall I went to Disneyland. I stood in a long line to pass through security. I had only my phone and a small wallet in my possession. Yet I had to wait as parents with children (it is Disneyland after all) had their diaper bags and stroller scrutinized. Then it was another wait to get through the ticket gate. It took perhaps a half an hour to get into the happiest place on Earth. This was all on a weekday in October. I can’t imagine what it must be like on the weekends!

As for me, I was aboard the USS Enterprise when those men took something from all of us. The ship was headed to South Africa for a historic port of call when everything changed. My Captain didn’t wait for orders. He heard the news and ordered the ship back to the Middle East, the most likely source of the attack. Eventually we got some payback but the scars remain.

I don’t feel any more or any less safe with the increased security measures but I understand why they are in place. I wonder if we will ever get back that sense of security. Will there be a day when metal detectors, full body scans, and bag checks go away? Can we build a world where a large crowd of people can gather without fear of bullets raining down or bombs going off? I want to believe we can. I want my nieces and nephews born post 9-11-2001 to feel safe in amusement parks without the hassle of long security lines. How can we make that happen?

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