My Take Tuesday: 9/11

This week marks twenty-five years since the morning the world changed.

Alan Jackson wrote a song that asked, “Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day?” I know exactly where I was.

It was a bright morning in Trujillo, Peru. I was cramped into a tiny Tico taxi, my knees against the cracked vinyl seat, as the Monserrate neighborhood passed by: brown-and-white brick homes washed in sunlight and laundry fluttering from rooftop lines. Nearing the end of two years as a missionary for my church, I was headed to mission headquarters when the driver reached over and turned up the radio.

By then, Castellano was the language of my thoughts. Before the words fully registered, I heard the urgency in the newscaster’s voice. Describing the planes striking the towers, he used the verb clavar—to nail. That single word struck hardest, carrying violence, finality, and disbelief. Panic rose in my chest, followed by a hollow ache that settled in and remained.

In the days and weeks that followed, strangers stopped me on the street. Recognizing that I was from the United States, they offered condolences with a sincerity that surprised me. Peru had endured its own decade of terror in the 1990s, and its people understood what fear could do to a nation’s soul. Their kindness steadied me when home felt impossibly far away.

Being abroad that day was difficult. Yet I will always be grateful for the Peruvians who reached out—people who did not know me or owe me anything, but chose compassion anyway.

Humanity is a paradox. We are capable of unspeakable cruelty—of destroying cities, families, and futures. History offers ample proof. Violent extremist groups such as Al-Qaeda, which carried out the 9/11 attacks, have caused staggering harm and loss of life around the world. Our capacity for destruction is real and terrifying.

Yet we are also the species that rushes into a burning building to save a stranger, dives into a river for a dog, or kneels in the dirt to rescue a trembling kitten. We can destroy, but we also have a powerful instinct to protect.

On September 11, the world witnessed both truths.

May we never forget those who died, the families forever changed, and the first responders and military personnel who ran toward danger without hesitation. Their courage remains one of the clearest examples of humanity at its best.

That is my take.

N. Isaac Bott, DVM