This was a college paper that I did for a Religion class at Briar Cliff University. I would like to share this with the Elaine's family & friends. Theology 102
Sr. Michaela Galles
Marc J. Mozak
September 14, 2002
Reflection Paper
I can recall certain historical events in my lifetime that have unleashed the spirit of patriotism within me. Those events, some of them good and some of them bad, affected our country, our world, and me personally. In the summer of 1969, I sat in front of my family’s black and white television and watched as Neil Armstrong stepped on the lunar surface. It was a proud day to be an American. As a young adult a decade later, I watched as American citizens were taken hostage in Iran. It angered me to see our flag being burnt by foreigners. In 1986, the nation mourned when the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded. This was a dark day for America and our space program. However, no occasion can compare to the tragedy of September 11, 2001. It became a defining moment in history, a day that forever changed each of us in some way.
The Remembrance Ceremony at Briar Cliff, like others around the country, was a time for reflection. As I sat there in the Chapel, I thought about where I was on that late summer day a year earlier. I had just arrived at work that morning when a co-worker told me that a plane had hit a skyscraper in New York City. We went into the conference room and turned on the television. At that time, we all thought that this crash was just another isolated plane accident. Some of us were just starting to discuss how a military plane had once crashed into the Empire State Building when we saw the second jet hit. Nobody uttered a sound, we just stared in disbelief, and we all knew that this was no longer an accident.
Katie Lamson’s essay, “Me and Mom” hit really close to home for me. I remember coming home that evening from work and spending it with my family. All I wanted to do was to be with my wife and children and to know that we were all safe. It saddened me then, and still today, to think about all of the children whose parents did not return home that evening.
As I left the chapel, I reached into the basket to pull out a victim’s name. The name that I selected was Elaine Cillo, and her age at death was 40. Ironically this was also how old I was last year. I realized that the two of us, being from the same generation, had witnessed the same historical events.
After the tree planting ceremony, I sat and wondered about Elaine. What were her religious beliefs? Did Elaine believe in God? Where was she from? Was Elaine an American, or was she one of the many foreigners killed that day? Did she have any siblings? Was Elaine married, and if so, did she have any children? If her children were older, was Elaine a grandmother yet? Did she attend college after high school, and if so, was she leading a professional life in her chosen occupation? Or was Elaine a continuing education student like myself, searching for something that would give her life true gratification? What circumstances placed her on broad one of those jets that day? Did she suffer in her last moments on earth?
I thought about writing a letter to her family. I want them to know that even though Elaine and I never met, she has touched my heart. I also want them to know that Elaine Cillo will never be forgotten, for I will carry her name with me always.
