Thinking of you

The local fire chief slowly lowered the stars and strips on the tall pole where the maple leaf should be. Two young people, without music, sang Amazing Grace. Then they belted out the Star-Spangled Banner as the flag crept back aloft.

A piper played. People wept. The elected and semi-powerful from both sides of the river bowed their heads for two long minutes. Then O Canada. And the platoon of firefighters, looking wholly uncomfortable in jackets and white gloves, shuffled off in what should have been a march. But they shuffled proudly.

This was Nine Eleven in the park a block from my house. Yes, Canadian soil. Maybe a hundred people turned out this morning. It was the twenty-fourth time folks have done so. In solidarity with the nation that begins a few hundred feet away, on the shores of New York state. A country we’re now, the prime minister says, at war with.

Strangely, it was emotionally filling to see the large American flag on the staff beside the river. It was the same feeling as giving a really meaningful, special or personal gift to someone. In that moment, it’s all about them. But the good sprays over you.

Surely the people in Gander and elsewhere on The Rock who took in 7,000 plane people that day felt the same. Moments come along when borders erase and humanity fill the gap. You never forget them.

The place where I’m living is in sight of the States. Americans flood the main street shops and eateries. They fill the hotels. Ride in the horsey carriages. Spend greenbacks and marvel at how calm we all are. Guys from the fire brigade across the river polish their rigs and show up for the Christmas parade. Boaters, sailors, stand-up paddlers, swimmers and kayakers look out for each other as they crisscross the international line.

Of course, there are the old forts on both shores. Once the Yanks invaded. They bombed the town. They burned it. Timbers in the basement of my two-century-old house are still scorched. The colonial forces responded by going to Washington and torching the president’s house. Then we all decided to get along for the following 222 years. We fought the next wars together. Now we’re the two most intertwined developed nations on earth.

But, as mentioned, we are in an economic war. Despite that, our prime minister delivered a heartfelt Nine Eleven message of empathy and friendship. Our trade guy Dominic LeBlanc sent a note to his bitter American rival, Howard Lutnick (who lost staff and a brother that morning) to say, “I am thinking of you.” And my neighbours stood with me by the river to watch the American flag fall in sorrow then rise in defiance.

One man, surely, will not wreck this.

About the picture: Part of the scene this morning as my town sent a message to the Americans across the river. We raised their flag. Sang their anthem. Stood in silence to reflect that we, at the core, are all the same.

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