Out of a Clear, Blue Sky

Mirror columnist and best-selling novelist Tony Parsons' brilliant insight into the shocking events in America, and his moving testimony to the ordinary people who became heroes.

Death came out of a clear, blue sky. That is where the story begins - the only story we can tell, the only story we want to hear - with the kind of clear, blue sky that you only get in autumn in New York City. The day was crisp and cloudless and made you feel glad to be alive. A day when anything seemed possible. Then death came out of that clear, blue sky, changing everything, tearing apart all those lives, and we learned just how much we in the western world are hated.

Is that hate understandable? Can we grasp the reason that our own lives could be torn apart if we find ourselves in the wrong place?

I look at all the reasons put forward - the foundation of the state of Israel, the Gulf War casualties that we watched like so many video games, the Iraqi children who have died because of sanctions - and it still baffles me. How can you slaughter the innocent to avenge the innocent? But then I think of the children who died in firestorms in Dresden and Tokyo, and I know that we are all capable of slaughtering the innocent to avenge the innocent. We have done it before. Perhaps we will do it again soon.

No, it really wasn't like a movie. Because movies are full of quick cuts, and characters, and dialogue. And what did we see on that Tuesday when the world changed forever?

A simple long shot of a burning building. There are two towers, and one of them is retching smoke. And then - far too slowly for any Hollywood movie - a plane coming into the picture, black against a blue sky that is filling with toxic fog, and almost lazily ploughing into the second tower. And then the eruption of fire and smoke, and the screams on the ground, the pleas to God to make this be some sick nightmare. No, not like a film at all. No Mel Gibson, no Hollywood hunk to save the day. There would be real-life heroes galore - fire-fighters who looked like working-class men who liked a beer or two, the office worker who would refuse to leave his disabled friend, and men who fought hijackers armed with knives with their bare hands. But here's why it wasn't like a movie. Because the heroes died. Almost all of them.

And we know from the heroes that survived that they did not die screaming defiance and shaking a righteous fist at the sky. They died in terror, and running for their lives, and calling home to tell the wife or husband that they would never see them again, but would always love them.

Nothing like a movie. Love burned alive, heroism crushed, thousands upon thousands of good people left without their father, their mother, their child, the love of their life.

Who would go to see this movie exactly? Who could eat popcorn when those unforgettable images were dancing before our eyes?

"Did you see the yuppies flying out the windows of the trade center?" laughed a young man outside a mosque in North London. "That was so funny."

And I can't tell that young man how angry he makes me feel. And I can't tell him how wrong he is. And I can't explain that there are many of us who have been sickened by the slaughter of Palestinian children, who will probably now care a little less about the injustices of the Middle East now that we have an injustice of our own, now that we know that young man would be amused if our own loved ones were burned alive, buried in rubble, torn to bits.

We are being forced to choose sides. The evil idiots who crashed those planes, their grotesque cheerleaders like that young man, are forcing us to harden our hearts. That's the real tragedy of that unforgettable Tuesday.

A few words from Charlie Daniels: "This Ain't No Rag It's A Flag"

This ain't no rag it's a flag and we don't wear it on our heads.
It's a symbol of the land where the good guys live. Are you listening to what I said?

You're a coward and a fool, and you broke all the rules, and you wounded our American pride.
Now we're coming with a gun, and we know you're gonna run, but you can't find no place to hide.

We're gonna hunt you down like a mad dog hound, and make you pay for the lives you stole.
We're all through talking and messing around, and now it's time to rock and roll,

These colors don't run, and we're speaking as one, when we say united we stand.
If you mess with one, you mess with us all every boy, girl, woman and man.

You've been acting mighty rash and talking that trash, but let me give you some advice.
You can crawl back in your hole, like a dirty little mole, but now it's time to pay the price.

You might have shot us in the back but now you have to face the fact that the big boy's in the game.
The lightning's been flashing and the thunder's been crashing, and now it's gettin ready to rain.

Chorus:
This is the United States of America the land of the brave and free.
We believe in God, we believe in justice, we believe in liberty.

You've been pulling our chain we shoulda done something about you a long time ago.
But now the flag's flying high and the fur's gonna fly and now the whole world's gonna know.
This ain't no rag, it's a flag old glory red white and blue.
The stars and stripes and when it comes to a fight we can do what we have to do.
Our people stand proud, the American crowd is faithful and loyal and tough.
We're as good as the best and better than the rest you're gonna find out soon enough.

When you look up in the sky and you see the eagle fly, you'd better know he's headed your way.
This ain't no rag, it's a flag, and it stands for the USA

I heard this on the radio last week and my heart almost burst with PRIDE.

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