Life's Cry In The Wake Of Death's Whimper



September 25, 2002—Ground Zero Plus 378
Life's Cry In The Wake Of Death's Whimper

Cliff McKenzie
   Editor, New York City Combat Correspondent News

       GROUND ZERO, New York City, September 25--My grandson let out a Scream of Vigilance in the wake of death two days ago.   He received the gift of life from the dead.
         It was a wake up call to all whom mourn the passing of life;  his cry was symbolic that life is eternal.   His Voice carried the fruits of the future from the seeds of the grave..
       His cry meant to me that Life does not end up six-feet under once it expires.   Instead, it is passed on like an Olympic baton in a relay, passing from the dead to the living.  The departed  pass on both the mistakes they have made in life plus the hopes of limiting them to the living.  That Hope for most who leave this earth is that the world becomes just a little better because they were here.  They leave the legacy of evolution. My grandson inherited that legacy two days ago from his great grandmother who recently died.
       My wife, older daughter and Nine Eleven Grandson, Angus,  returned from burying my mother-in-law in Montana late last night.   The three of them arrived at JFK at 10:37 p.m., somewhat worn from a week of emotional sadness over the loss of my wife's mother, who died peacefully in her chair at age 88.
        During the funeral mass, as the priest was ending the Catholic celebration of death and life--a difficult concept for anyone who has lost a loved one to handle--my wife was holding 14-week-old Angus in her arms.   He was asleep, she said, and his comforting body against hers helped support her as the ritual of burying the dead grew heavier in my wife's heart, and for those loved ones gathered to bid Charlotte Schneider Lane final farewell.

      As the priest was waving the incense designed to cleanse the "spirit" so it could ascend to Heaven unencumbered, Angus awoke.   My wife reported he sucked in a deep breath of incense and stiffened.  Startled, he let out great cry that rang through the church.   
       "It was a cry of life," my wife recalled.  "It was as though Angus was telling us all that life survives death."
       This was Angus' second funeral in his short life of just over three months.
       A few weeks prior, his mother had taken him to another funeral--the death of her sister's good friend's father.   Angus brought Life to those who were pained by death there too.   Babies remind those who attend funerals that life goes on, that it is a continuum of purpose, and that the dirt that covers the flesh and bones of the departed can never bury the spirit of life, for it survives always, embodied in the precious innocence of the young.
       Angus, as all children, is special.    However, I believe he is extra special since he was conceived in the aftermath of September 11, as thousands of bodies burned just a few blocks to the south of his home, their physical bodies under millions of tons of concrete and twisted metal.    He represents the life of death, the Hope that rises out of the ash of Dismay.
       His cry at his great grandmother's funeral was a Cry of Vigilance, not of Terror.
       He awakened the Spirit of Life in those present, reminding them that the true lesson of death is the celebration of life.  Death serves as a underscore to the duty to protect and preserve life.   Only a newborn child can make that point so vivid, so clear.

         I have seen a lot of death in my life--brutal, ugly death.   War is always full of it.   Death, especially from war, turns one's skin inside out, leathers one's soul, embitters one's moral compass, and often, as in my case, makes one wonder about the futility of human beings to ever resolve their primal nature to inflict pain on one another.
        Besides witnessing the horrors of Vietnam, I was at Ground Zero on September 11.  On Nine Eleven I saw death and destruction in the raging holocaust brought about by man's inhumanity to man.  It was a sickening sight--the wanton destruction of the innocent in the name of glorification of some ethereal ideal.
       Like Angus, I chose on that day to scream--not in anger or resentment or futility, but to scream for Vigilance, scream for Courage, Conviction and Right Actions to replace the Fear, Intimidation and Complacency that senseless death and brutality delivers at our doorstep.
        I understood Angus' scream.  I knew, because of its timing, it wasn't just coincidence.
        Angus was born with Right of Vigilance in his genes.   As a September 11th baby, he carries in the marrow of his existence a special calling.   His Voice shatters the Silence of Complacency; it is the Bullhorn of Vigilance.
        Anyone hearing a baby's cry in the midst of death is reminded that life is not about waiting for death to celebrate its power, but instead to never neglect its potency--its preciousness.
        Yesterday, I wrote about the insanity of our government waiting to vaccinate the population against smallpox until we had an "emergency."   I cited the Terrorism of our government controlling the vaccine, holding it back from the citizens of this country while simultaneously egging on the madness of Saddam Hussein, and our thirst to go to war even though we are quite sure he will retaliate with any and all "weapons of mass destruction" he can get hold off--including smallpox.

       Angus' cry was to awaken the Spirits of Vigilance in all citizens to demand access to the smallpox vaccine prior to an emergency that would cause panic and risk lives in the mad rush to protect ourselves and our children from the threat of infection.
        But who heard Angus' cry?   Or, for that matter, any of the children born in the aftermath of Nine Eleven?
        Who is listening and interpreting what they say, since they have not yet learned to speak words, and operate off the simple instinct to survive?      

        Angus' Cry of Life at the funeral was an example of the Voice of Vigilance.  Angus does not need words to express his passion for life.   It was a gift given to him by over 3,000 victims of September 11, 2001.   They offered him the Trumpet of Vigilance, and his Cry of Life was a rallying message to Parents, Grandparents and Loved Ones of Vigilance to not fall Complacent to the duty of protecting the children, and their children's children's from the threats of Terrorism.
       Our greatest Terrorism is the stripping of our rights as citizens by our government.   No more current threat to those rights is the smallpox vaccine being held under lock and key by our government, to be issued out in the event of an "emergency" rather than being offered to all who chose to inoculate themselves and their children from the impending threat of some mad Terrorist seeking revenge against us.

      When I heard the story of Angus' cry at the funeral, I knew it was not dissimilar to the Cry of Vigilance I heard on September 11, 2001, as I sat in the rubble and ash of the World Trade Center, watching the spirits of the Sentinels of Vigilance rising up from the graves of Ground Zero to form a Circle of Vigilance, a protectorate, guarding the future of the children and the children's children's children.
       They spoke through Angus' cry.
       They told those present that we must not Fear, be Intimidated by, or fall Complacent to our duty as Parents of Vigilance over the future of our children, our homes, our neighborhoods, our communities or our countries.   
       His Voice told all who had ears to hear and hearts to feel that we, the Citizens of Vigilance, not our governments, must be in charge of the ultimate protection of our future.
       The pejorative attitude of our government that allows it to think it has a right to withhold smallpox vaccine from the public until there is an emergency is an act of Terrorism against the children of this nation.  It puts them at unnecessary risk, and holds their safety hostage through the power of politics.
       The government has no right to deny voluntary inoculations of children and families, through and with their family doctors, should they so elect.   Yet the vaccine is being held under lock and key, only to be issued "after the fact," after an "attack."
      Angus, I believe, was crying for his rights, and for the rights of all who follow him.
      He was crying for the "Right of Life."
      When a child cries out life at the gravesite of death, it is time we all listened to what he is saying.
      I heard Angus cry "Semper Vigilantes--Always Vigilant!"
       What did you hear?


Go To September 24--"Scream Of Smallpox Vigilance"

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