BY JOELLEN COLLINS
I have an older cousin who visited the 75th anniversary commemoration of D-Day this year in Normandy. In 1944, the time of the invasion, he was too young to be able to enlist but had planned to do so, with his twin brother. Certainly he was of an age then to have been absorbed by the events of WWII. Our families knew many who went to war.
As I watched on TV the ceremonies he observed firsthand, I was struck with a comment by one of the few aged D-Day veterans able to attend. When asked how he felt about having risked his life in such a treacherous encounter, he said, “Well, I was just doing my job.” Other veterans also voiced that conviction, adding that of course they were frightened at the presence of hideous carnage, but carried on with their promised task of the day, even if they might die.
I have thought a lot about those men recently, as I read about PTSD, the ravages of our latest military skirmishes, and the fears of parents who see their sons or daughters setting out for treacherous endeavors. I have also noted reports of civilians who did, indeed, put themselves in the line of fire in order to save someone else’s life. I have never been tested this way, though I would hope that I would risk great danger, for example, if someone in my family were in peril. What if it was a stranger?
So I was even more impressed when rereading and hearing, over the past few years, about first responders—in this case, those on 9/11—some who died in those moments of “doing their jobs,” but also others who have since been suffering and dying from malignant diseases caused, in the most part, from the matter they had to absorb when entering the areas around and in the devastation of the Twin Towers in New York.
Just thinking about what was in the air that day is hard enough, but now I learn that scientists have found that even the uniforms and equipment used when firefighters and other responders enter burning structures may have particles remaining that, when absorbed in the skin or by breathing, are cancerous.
I was thrilled to see that Congress has extended financial aid to those men and women who have been so affected by the malignant detritus of 9/11. However, I am also aware that there are substances we have not yet examined that may be equally harmful to first responders and, perhaps, even to those of us living “safer” lives.
These recent examples of others’ perilous vocations remind me to acknowledge a plethora of complaints about our work days, much of it justified, of course. Nonetheless, how many of us awaken to the thought that going to work may mean not waking up again tomorrow? I have been fortunate to be employed in situations that do not involve that reality. I thank those who are.