I recall I was at LAX, on my way home to Maine. Our flight was being held, no one on the plane knew why. Shortly it became clear that something terrible had happened. Air traffic was grounded for the ensuing week. So many were far more deeply affected than I was. Friends of mine lost loved ones, and they remember this day with emotions ranging from bitterness to hope. But this time has meaning to me, as well, because of my experiences while waiting in LA for a chance to get back home.

My Los Angeles hotel had been near the airport, but I moved downtown, as I reasoned that LAX might be a follow-up target. Many people were making similar calculations and changing plans. The Westin Bonaventure Hotel became a little outpost for a few days, as those of us who were stranded wandered the many lobbies, collecting around the televisions that had been set up strategically.

I worked for an organization with a weekly online newsletter. They asked me to talk to people to see how they were reacting, and I filed a report the next week.

Here’s an excerpt:

There was foreboding this week in Los Angeles. Three of the four hijacked planes were bound for Los Angeles International Airport. While that fact appeared to have nothing to do with Los Angeles specifically, there was almost a sense of guilt pervading the town. . . . It was hard not to find someone personally affected by the terrorist acts in some way. Yet the responses I heard were measured and thoughtful. In a town so intensely focused on presentation and image, where even the bail bondsmen have a keen marketing savvy (billboard downtown: “Bad Boy Bail Bonds: Because your mama wants you home”), even the anger had a quiet deliberation to it. . . .

I can remember once, shortly after the Persian Gulf War, I was listening to a talk radio station in Los Angeles, where I used to live. I was almost blown out of my seat by the extreme, angry words of one of the callers, who railed at the racial inferiority of Arabs, sprinkling his invective with creative epithets. The host let him go on at length. I lost my stamina before he did, switching stations. The intensity of the tirade had shaken me, and I feared for the state of the world — mostly because the host and nearly every caller were in complete agreement. I saw visions of government internment camps.

Some see that the role of government is to help us to be more than vigilantes. At a time when revenge can be foremost in the minds of citizens, some see a need for moral leadership from elected officials — to remind us of the values we share as humans, to remind us to avoid blanket condemnations and faith-based profiling. . . . Certainly justice will need to be done, and those responsible for the attack on the United States will need to be punished. But we will also need to take care to remember that the perpetrators are responsible for these acts because they are terrorists, not because they believe in the prophet Mohammed. Thankfully, in the midst of anger and the lust for revenge, there are those who seek understanding and balance.

Thank you to The Institute For Global Ethics, in 2001, for giving me the space to write this piece, which you can read in full here.