thedrifter
10-29-03, 05:45 AM
Beirut bombing defined hometown
October 23,2003
DAILY NEWS STAFF
The Oct. 23, 1983, bombing of the Marine barracks in Beirut is one of those events that - even 20 years later - is hard to fathom.
The ground had barely stopped trembling on that terrible Sunday morning when the questions began. What happened to security? Why were U.S. troops clustered in such a vulnerable position? Why were Americans in Lebanon anyway?
While fingers were being pointed in many directions in diplomatic and political circles, the queries were much more personal in nature in this hometown. Who didn't make it? Who did? What should we do next?
Those were terrible hours that stretched into heart-wrenching days.
Looking back, we now understand that at least part of our perplexity was symptomatic of a community-wide state of shock. We also realize that some of the toughest questions would never have answers.
Sometimes you have to persevere without understanding. That is what we did.
The point that struck like a dagger then, and still causes us great pain today, is that 241 precious lives were lost. As the rest of the world dealt with the international implications of the Beirut bombing, this community came together to mourn the husbands, fathers, sons, friends and neighbors who died.
More than ever, we were as one. Jacksonville, Camp Lejeune, Onslow County, New River - all together in sorrow and suddenly bound by a commitment to preserve the memory of the fallen.
For more than four decades, this community had struggled with its identity. Caught in the harsh glare of the national spotlight, with tears streaming down its face, it found one.
The differences that divide military and civilian residents no longer seemed as important as those things that they have in common. As neighbors embraced neighbors, they also began to embrace what it means to live in Jacksonville and Onslow County, North Carolina.
This is the place to which America looks when there's no place else left to turn. This is a place where the tightly woven fabric of community upholds the red, white and blue fabric of the American flag. This is the place where the armed forces are more than numbers - they are the men and women who pass out hymnals at church, coach third base for Little Leaguers and cruise the streets at night with car speakers thumping.
This is the place where haircuts and accents may be different, but hearts beat the same.
Planted in this new common ground were memorial trees. Built on these new realizations was a beautiful monument. Anchored by this new commitment was, at last, a sense of direction.
People looked differently at such issues as improving our schools, protecting our natural resources and sharing emergency services. More importantly, people looked differently at each other.
Like all memories, our recollections of the Beirut bombing are seen through the prism of the territory that lies between then and now. While the pain of that dark day 20 years ago will never go away, it is soothed by the fact that the community used the experience to become a better place to live.
May that always be so. May we never forget.
http://www.jacksonvilledailynews.com/SiteProcessor.cfm?Template=Details.cfm&StoryID=17127&Section=Opinion
Sempers,
Roger
:marine:
October 23,2003
DAILY NEWS STAFF
The Oct. 23, 1983, bombing of the Marine barracks in Beirut is one of those events that - even 20 years later - is hard to fathom.
The ground had barely stopped trembling on that terrible Sunday morning when the questions began. What happened to security? Why were U.S. troops clustered in such a vulnerable position? Why were Americans in Lebanon anyway?
While fingers were being pointed in many directions in diplomatic and political circles, the queries were much more personal in nature in this hometown. Who didn't make it? Who did? What should we do next?
Those were terrible hours that stretched into heart-wrenching days.
Looking back, we now understand that at least part of our perplexity was symptomatic of a community-wide state of shock. We also realize that some of the toughest questions would never have answers.
Sometimes you have to persevere without understanding. That is what we did.
The point that struck like a dagger then, and still causes us great pain today, is that 241 precious lives were lost. As the rest of the world dealt with the international implications of the Beirut bombing, this community came together to mourn the husbands, fathers, sons, friends and neighbors who died.
More than ever, we were as one. Jacksonville, Camp Lejeune, Onslow County, New River - all together in sorrow and suddenly bound by a commitment to preserve the memory of the fallen.
For more than four decades, this community had struggled with its identity. Caught in the harsh glare of the national spotlight, with tears streaming down its face, it found one.
The differences that divide military and civilian residents no longer seemed as important as those things that they have in common. As neighbors embraced neighbors, they also began to embrace what it means to live in Jacksonville and Onslow County, North Carolina.
This is the place to which America looks when there's no place else left to turn. This is a place where the tightly woven fabric of community upholds the red, white and blue fabric of the American flag. This is the place where the armed forces are more than numbers - they are the men and women who pass out hymnals at church, coach third base for Little Leaguers and cruise the streets at night with car speakers thumping.
This is the place where haircuts and accents may be different, but hearts beat the same.
Planted in this new common ground were memorial trees. Built on these new realizations was a beautiful monument. Anchored by this new commitment was, at last, a sense of direction.
People looked differently at such issues as improving our schools, protecting our natural resources and sharing emergency services. More importantly, people looked differently at each other.
Like all memories, our recollections of the Beirut bombing are seen through the prism of the territory that lies between then and now. While the pain of that dark day 20 years ago will never go away, it is soothed by the fact that the community used the experience to become a better place to live.
May that always be so. May we never forget.
http://www.jacksonvilledailynews.com/SiteProcessor.cfm?Template=Details.cfm&StoryID=17127&Section=Opinion
Sempers,
Roger
:marine: