Carve the truth in stone and bronze

Holocaust Memorial, Columbia, South CarolinaJames Gadiel, an employee of Cantor Fitzgerald in New York City, was working on the 103rd floor of the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001.

Shortly before nine o'clock that morning a commercial airliner, skyjacked minutes earlier by Muslim terrorists, purposely flew into the North tower. The rest is well-known history.

The young man from Kent, Connecticut, lost his life on that achingly beautiful September morning.

He was 23 years old.

For several years James's father, Peter, has attempted to have a memorial plaque installed near the town hall in Kent. But the plaque will likely never see the light of day, because Peter Gadiel refuses to budge on one important point.

The plaque must read, beneath James Gadiel's name: murdered by Muslim terrorists.

Town officials balk at that stark language.

In other words, they take exception to the truth.

I respectfully submit that it is high time you get your warm-fuzzy-o-meter into the shop for service.

Ruth Epstein was one of two town "leaders" who voted against a plaque with such "controversial" verbiage being erected in honor of a native son.

Ms. Epstein points out that Kent perceives itself to be a "very warm, loving town." She believes that "to disparage any one ethnic group is against everything that we stand for here."

Oh, really?

I've never been to Kent, Connecticut. I envision it as a charming town insofar as landscape, architecture, and history are concerned. New England is astoundingly perfect from those particular vantage points.

But sadly, in that beautiful part of the world reside some of the most rabidly liberal and godless individuals to be found outside of Washington, D.C.

And if you equate liberals with warmth and love, I respectfully submit that it is high time you get your warm-fuzzy-o-meter into the shop for service. Don't delay; it may already be too late.

The official web site for Kent, Connecticut, avers on its home page that the town "offers old-fashioned ways to enjoy life."

Like, for example, being allowed to live in the first place?

I do not personally know Ruth Epstein or anyone else from Kent, Connecticut. But I daresay that if you are liberal enough to be unwilling to face up to the truth of Muslim terrorism -- what it has cost America in general and individual Americans in particular -- you are most likely not willing to be warm and loving toward a true patriot, a conservative (same thing), or -- God forbid -- a Christian who would stand up and call a spade a spade.

In addition to a dearth of compassion for the victims of terrorism, there is a dreadful paucity of logic in Ms. Epstein's argument against the proposed plaque's language.

In an interview with Fox News, she elaborated: "We have at least one Muslim family living here with children ... it would be just awful to have them see something like that."

Oh, really?

So, the Muslim family living in a breathtakingly gorgeous American town -- with all the glorious rights and privileges thereto appertaining -- would be traumatized by four words that tell the truth about what psychotic adherents to their religion did to a 23-year-old man from the same town?

In a verdant seven-acre park at the corner of Gadsden and Hampton Streets in Columbia, South Carolina, there are stunning monuments to American veterans of all foreign wars.

Included is an impressive and heartbreaking granite memorial to the 6,000,000 victims of the holocaust. Carved into the stone at the top left of the monument are these unflinching words:

There exists a small German community in Columbia ... about eight percent of the total population. My husband is of solid German descent on his father's side. Hello? Weber here. Other family names include Fink and Waldvogel. My children are therefore of German descent.

Is it "awful" for them to read the words engraved on a collective tombstone honoring the millions who died at the hands of Nazi Germany? Of course not; on the contrary, it is awe-inspiring. It is a sobering reminder of what happens when entire nations forget God and cater to the evil whims of despots.

And let's not forget the 3,000 Americans who died with James Gadiel on September 11, 2001. What about the harsh, inescapable truth faced by their family members every single day?

I don't imagine the violent, untimely death of a loved one must be emblazoned on a plaque and publicly displayed in order to cut your already-shredded heart to ribbons.

That's what you call awful.

As a country, we'd be much better off if we would consent to be confronted by the truth, with all its terrible implications, rather than be comforted by a pernicious lie that lays waste to the fervent patriotism -- not to mention the moral compass -- of an entire generation.

Of the many kinds of deep grief there are, I imagine losing a child is near to being the most profound. But as sad as the death of a beloved child must be, the death of the soul and conscience of a nation is just as tragic, and infinitely more far-reaching.

God Bless the United States of America.

Never forget.