Showing posts with label memorial. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memorial. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Mandela Memorial: Obama Speaks and Soweto Cheers

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Previous Related Posts:
R.I.P. Nelson Mandela - "He Belongs to the Ages
Obama in Africa: Capetown to Tanzania

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President Obama and every other living President except George H.W. Bush attended the Memorial Service for Nelson Mandela in Soweto, South Africa. Speaking in the rain to a packed stadium, President Obama had the crowd fired up and cheering, as he often does in our own country. His was by far the most dynamic speech. Most of the tributes could have been edited intensely and no one would have noticed. However, Mandela's grandchildren were wonderfully poetic!

Click Here for Complete Text of President Obama's Eulogy

Excerpts:
. . . Mandela understood the ties that bind the human spirit. There is a word in South Africa -- Ubuntu -- a word that captures Mandela’s greatest gift: his recognition that we are all bound together in ways that are invisible to the eye; that there is a oneness to humanity; that we achieve ourselves by sharing ourselves with others, and caring for those around us.

We can never know how much of this sense was innate in him, or how much was shaped in a dark and solitary cell. But we remember the gestures, large and small -- introducing his jailers as honored guests at his inauguration; taking a pitch in a Springbok uniform; turning his family’s heartbreak into a call to confront HIV/AIDS -- that revealed the depth of his empathy and his understanding. He not only embodied Ubuntu, he taught millions to find that truth within themselves.

. . . Over 30 years ago, while still a student, I learned of Nelson Mandela and the struggles taking place in this beautiful land, and it stirred something in me. It woke me up to my responsibilities to others and to myself, and it set me on an improbable journey that finds me here today. And while I will always fall short of Madiba’s example, he makes me want to be a better man. He speaks to what’s best inside us.

After this great liberator is laid to rest, and when we have returned to our cities and villages and rejoined our daily routines, let us search for his strength. Let us search for his largeness of spirit somewhere inside of ourselves. And when the night grows dark, when injustice weighs heavy on our hearts, when our best-laid plans seem beyond our reach, let us think of Madiba and the words that brought him comfort within the four walls of his cell: “It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.”

What a magnificent soul it was. We will miss him deeply. May God bless the memory of Nelson Mandela. May God bless the people of South Africa.












Mandiba's Grandchildren - He Would Be Proud!

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Sunday, July 21, 2013

Marching for Trayvon Martin ~ Change the Stand Your Ground Laws

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source: @urbansoldier33 in Savannah, GA

This weekend, thousands of people in 100 cities are marching or rallying in memory of Trayvon Martin. And on Friday, President Obama made an impromptu, historic and heartfelt speech about race relations in America.












































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Tuesday, September 11, 2012

In Remembrance of 9/11

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Eleven years later and all of this is so overwhelming. I've shed a few tears watching videos of the unfolding disaster in New York City, and was reminded again of the loss of thousands of lives. There is a fearful horror that still lives in all of us who witnessed the desctruction whether near or far away. This is not just a story about New York City.

On September 11, 2001, I was sitting at home with my youngest child, who was usually in kindergarten but he was sick that day. He was lying on the couch watching Blues Clues on TV when my husband called and told me urgently to turn on NBC because something had happened in New York - a plane had apparently hit the World Trade Towers. I couldn't see how that was possible. It was a beautiful clear day in the East, the first cool day of fall. Visibility was 100% - surely my husband was mistaken.

PhotobucketNo. I stared in horror at the sight of buildings with gaping holes in the side, watched while smoke rose and papers flew from the tall buildings like weird confetti. What I learned later was that human beings were also falling to the streets, those killed on the impact of the planes, or those above the fire who jumped to their deaths. This is what haunts me even now. I have a scrapbook of pictures I printed from the internet in remembrance. I'm glad to see those pictures still around on the internet to remind us of the human cost, the human story. This wasn't just about buildings and economics and religion.

This was about killing innocent people in a cruel and unbelievable way with a diabolical plan. It wasn't just about killing Americans either - there were people in those towers from all over the world.

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And then there were the first responders. We saw video of brave firefighters and policemen walking towards the towers, with ambulances and police cruisers parked around the base. We were told on the news they were going to rescue everyone. There was so much hope! Everything was going to be all right! And then the Towers fell, one after another, collapsing like accordians into the streets, smoke rising over Manhatten Island, taking all those lives, including the men who matter-of-factly walked into the buildings to save anyone they could. Lost.
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Of course, we found out later that many were saved that day, but not enough, not nearly enough.

And then there was the plane that crashed in Pennsylvania. And the Pentagon. And we knew we were at war. And we are still at war - the longest war ever fought by our country.

As I said, my youngest was in kindergarten. For at least two weeks after 9-11, children would spontaneously talk about what they saw on TV, and some would start to cry. One little girl in my son's class was terrified because he Daddy was a fireman. My children drew pictures of burning towers and planes flying over the skyline of New York.

Even though we have risen from the ashes of the falling towers, we must never forget what happened that day. May it never, ever, ever happen again.

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