911: Mississippi River Remembrance

This article origianlly appeared in the Op-Ed section of the Minneapolis Star Tribune on September 16, 2001. I wrote it on 9/11/01, directly after Martijn and I returned from a most unusual yet reassuring afternoon and evening of sharing our friendship, astonishment and grief with our dear friends, Mame Osteen, Tony Moses and Claudia Chaves.

We boarded Tony’s small boat in St. Paul to drift down the mighty Mississippi River on the mint blue day our country was attacked by terrorists in New York and Washington, D.C. Half a continent away, we tried to restore a sense of normalcy while we reflected upon what had happened and what was to come.

Old Man River: the mighty Mississippi rolls through the Twin Cities

Commentary: Old Man River knows the truth: Terrorists won't win Susan T. Schaefer

Published Sep 16 2001

After watching details of the World Trade Center and Pentagon tragedy for hours, someone in our group suggested we unglue from the television. He offered a boat ride down the Mississippi. Not in disrespect, but in honor.

Four Seward neighbors and St. Louis Park friend headed out an a righteous old Sea Ray from the Highland Park marina. The day was as beautiful as it was sad. Neither God nor nature could have gifted a more perfect pre-autumn day.

Here we were, cruising straight down the middle of America. Down the Mississippi on the day America was attacked. If they thought they’d end life as we know it in this magnificent country, they wouldn’t succeed. Won’t succeed. We rode the waterway that defines America’s fourth coast – old man river, Mark Twain’s immortal icon.

No sooner had we eased out of the slip, a blue heron alighted on the nearby shore. Relative of the crane, a symbol of peace for many cultures, the heron became a symbol for this ride, our freedom ride. We needed a sign to assure us that this gesture, this freedom ride, was appropriate.

We passed the barges, flanking the north shore like giant tombs. We passed the infamous old house boats, which this night seemed to glow eerily with the blue haze flickers of television images.

At times we twittered endlessly, making nervous jokes as human tend to do when overwhelmed by uncharacteristic emotions.

At times no one spoke a word. Each gazing out at this rare and untamed urban landscape, lost in private reverie.

We seemed to be the only traffic anywhere – land, air or water – excepting the tugs whose lumbering procession appeared to mimic the dirges that are soon to roll down the streets of America.

The silence itself was shattering. Not a ripple of sound above as the sky pushed out her stars. And then, a sound we’d never heard – Americans accustomed to cluttered airways, unaccustomed to a breach in our way of life. High above. Military jets. On a mission. To protect the Mississippi. The sandstone cliffs. The wild-flowered shores.

At this time we should each take a personal freedom ride to honor the lives of those who cherished this majestic land, to defy those who think they’ve defiled it.

Susan T. Schaefer, a communications consultant, is an adjunct faculty member University of St. Thomas Graduate School of Business, a member of Seward Neighborhood Group’s executive board and past president the Minnesota Chapter of the Public Relations Society of America.