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A Nation on Edge
America needs answers to heal


By Laura Berman / The Detroit News

Todd McInturf / The Detroit News Center Line Public Safety Officer Bill Dempsey hugs mom Delores before leaving for New York to help with the rescue operation. The city sent eight to help. Beth A. Keiser / Associated Press Police officers stand guard near the site of the World Trade Center in New York on Wednesday. Mayor Rudolph Giuliani said 45 bodies had been recovered so far, but expects the death toll could reach into the thousands. John T. Greilick / The Detroit News Emann Allebban,16, Hiba Hassan,18, Nadia Bazzy,16, and Killoud Dabaja, 22, light candles Wednesday in Dearborn for those who died in the terrorist attacks. Associated Press In Oklahoma City, Deshonna Faulas, 5, holds a teddy bear that will be sent to a child in New York or Washington, D.C., as part of a school program. Comment on this story Send this story to a friend Get Home Delivery

   DETROIT -- Each sunrise brings another morning after. Even the blue sky and warm breezes are suspect, a trick of nature to divert us from catastrophe.
   There is that feeling in the pit of your stomach, a knot of dread, and uncertainty about how to proceed. The fundamental rules no longer apply.
   You hear, over and over, that the world is different now, everything changed.
   And yet you cannot say how or why this is so or what, exactly, has changed.
   We were an exuberant, upbeat nation, confident of our place in the world.
   Today, we're a nation of patients undergoing shock therapy, waiting for the next electric jolt. What's going to happen to us? Have these attacks truly ended? What will the stock market do when it opens? When will commercial aircraft fly freely in the sky?
   The answer to all these questions so far has been this: We don't know yet.
   Who is responsible for these violent, horrifying acts? Who are the hijackers?
   We don't know yet.
   And what are the numbers? How many stockbrokers, mothers, restaurant servers, file clerks, doctors, fathers, police officers, lawyers, firefighters, maintenance workers? How many babies?
   How many dead?
   We don't know so much, including where to direct our rage.
   Americans are not a vague people. We're impatient, action-oriented, accustomed to asking for and getting answers. We are the ones with the tanks and troops that solve other nations' problems.
   But we have problems we can't solve quite yet. We're reeling.
   We've seen the twin towers of the World Trade Center melt before our eyes. We've seen the Pentagon, the seat of our national defense, wounded like a deer in the October woods.
   So yes, we're shaken and uncertain. Because after all is said about our will and courage, they shut us down: Vaporized our most famous financial center. Closed our stores, our biggest metropolis, our bridges and tunnels and a system of air travel so extensive that a BBC commentator described it Wednesday as "America's bus system."
   A few terrorists, diabolical and well-organized, crippled America's vital functions, everything from air mail to Mickey Mouse.
   Worst of all, they made us afraid.
   No wonder we aren't sure how to navigate through conflicting emotions right now, the choppy waves of rage, fear, love, hatred, patriotism, empathy and compassion.
   "I feel as if we can't even protect our babies," said Elyse Sutherland, a Troy psychologist who snagged one of the last rental cars in Cleveland on Tuesday to get home to her daughter and husband from a business meeting.
   In our efforts to confront the stark fact of our helplessness, we act, even if that means acting oddly: Some race out to buy guns or a full tank of gas, as if either one might provide immunity from evil. Others hurry to help, lining up at Red Cross stations to donate blood, even though nobody needs any now.
   Two or three days later, it is still a time of shell-shock and uncertainty. We turn on the television in the morning, hoping no new terror is scheduled for broadcast today.
   But the hangover will not last forever.
   We will get answers to most of the questions, even the questions that terrify us.
   We will find out, gradually, how the world for us has changed.
   And even as we grieve, we can take comfort in what we have learned: that no, Kris Kristofferson, freedom isn't just another word for having nothing left to lose.
   It is what we took for granted: a rock-solid belief in our right to go wherever we want, whenever we want. To walk through airports without facing uniformed soldiers wielding automatic weapons. To speak the most eloquent and awful things, equally freely.
   We've been reminded this week how extraordinary we are: a nation that broadcasts an attack on the Pentagon -- the nerve center of our national defense -- live to every corner of the globe.
   The unspeakable fear gnawing at us isn't only about the uncertainty in the air, getting the answers to all the questions: It's not simply about how many dead, how much it costs, how many points will the Dow drop.
   We tremble because our American way of life is threatened, at the very moment we've learned to treasure it.

Laura Berman's column runs Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday. You can reach Laura Berman at (248) 647-7221 or lberman@detnews.com.