FORT LEE, Va. (Sept. 8, 2008) -- Her anger was persistent and often piercing, prompting questions like, "Why did this happen to me?" "What did I do to this deserve this?" And the one that stirred up the most rage, "Why didn’t he stop it?"
Lt. Col. Tamatha Patterson wrestled with those thoughts in the aftermath of Sept. 11, 2001. It was an event that was arguably the single most devastating day in U.S. history, one that changed lives, changed mindsets and drove her to a state of discord after losing her husband during the Pentagon attacks.
But there’s something about Patterson’s life today that is a million times less troubling, less unsettling and more enriching than yesteryear. It’s called moving on, the idea of overcoming tragedies, counting blessings and savoring every breath taken.
“This whole thing has taught me something about life:” said the 41-year-old Patterson, the U.S. Army Garrison’s deputy Inspector General, “it’s short; your next breath is not promised to you; enjoy it while you can; and don’t sweat the small stuff.”
The journey Patterson endured to reach that life-changing realization is fraught with uncertainty, loneliness and resentment. It began when she married an Army infantry officer, Clifford Patterson Jr. in 1993.
The Pattersons enjoyed a storybook life together, one that produced two boys, Leon and Cody.
“We were very close,” she said.
In 2001, the Pattersons lived at Fort Belvoir; she worked at the installation’s Defense Logistics Agency and him, the Pentagon.
On the morning of Sept. 11, Tamatha kissed her husband goodbye as he rode off to work on his motorcycle. She watched video tape later that day showing planes darting into the Twin Towers and reports about a plane crash at the Pentagon. She had not yet heard from her husband but wasn’t worried because he worked on the opposite of where the structure was hit.
Furthermore, she figured he was probably performing his Soldierly duties.
“What they showed on TV were folks trying to help folks get out of the building, get them to safety,” she said. “Military (members), everybody that worked there were trying to do that, so that’s what I thought Cliff was doing.”
Hours passed and like much of the nation, Tamatha was glued to the round-the-clock TV news coverage. She watched hoping the image of her husband might appear on one of the news reports.
His never did, but she still wasn’t overly concerned. Cell phone service was out, and the scene at the Pentagon was still chaotic.
“I said to myself ‘Cliff is working and when he gets to a phone, he’s going to let me know he’s O.K.,’” recalled Tamatha.
Sept. 12 came and went. So did Sept. 13.
No Cliff.
On Friday, Sept. 14, a casualty assistance officer showed up at her doorstep and reported that Cliff was in fact missing.
“That gave me some hope,” said Tamatha. “…I was just glad that somebody came and told me something about my husband.”
That’s about all anyone could tell her. From Sept. 14 to Sept. 26 -- still hopeful, still prayerful and still following news reports -- Tamatha awaited a call from Cliff or anyone who knew of his whereabouts.
“Twelve days,” she said, her voice breaking, “longest time in my life.”
Tamatha wouldn’t see her beloved Cliff alive again. His words of “Love you” and him riding off down the street on his Harley is a timeless and sometimes sad image.
“He was a great person, a soft-spoken person,” recalled Tamatha of her Soldier-husband. “… He always tried to be there, was always helpful, always smiling, loved his kids, loved his family, loved me and loved the Army.”
Tamatha had the support of family and friends following her husband’s death, yet alone without her life’s partner.
“I was scared to death,” she said. “I was lost.”
A more complex emotional issue was the anger she felt. With so much evil in the world, why was it OK to extinguish a life which bought so much good to others? How could the Almighty allow this to happen? Those questions and shook the foundation of her spirituality for several years after Cliff was buried.
“I showed up at Fort Lee four years ago still mad at God,” she said.
Two years ago, she attended Sunday school and heard the story of Job, a servant of God. It was in this Biblical character she found some answers.
“He lost everything,” she said. “Her (the Sunday school teacher’s) question was, ‘If Job could lose everything, then who are you? Why are you any better than he was?’”
It was an epiphany.
“I was like ‘Oh my God!’” she remembered.
Years of wallowing in her loss blinded her to the fact that she had escaped her husband’s fate.
“God spared me,” she said, noting she had planned to have lunch with Cliff at the Pentagon on Sept. 11. “I could have gone to the Pentagon that day, and my boys wouldn’t have me today.
“I’m not any better than anyone else,” she said.
Tamatha felt remorseful and sorrowful about her actions and thinking and has often felt those emotions in waves, still even today.
“I am so sorry,” she said more than once.
Today, Tamatha and her kids lead a normal life. The boys are active, and they keep her busy. She enjoys her job at the IG, has learned to ride her husband’s bike, and has found a bit of peace with the facts.
“I don’t (fully) understand it, but I can’t dwell on it,” she said.
More importantly, Tamatha has embraced an outlook that aggressively seeks to resolve conflicts and give back to others.
“If you love somebody, tell them,” she said, noting that life’s short. “If you have folks you don’t like, get over it. If you’ve wronged somebody, apologize.
“And try to do something good each and every day for somebody. That could be an action, an encouraging word or even a smile. Life is not just about you.”
Tamatha is scheduled to attend the Pentagon Memorial Dedication Ceremony today. She has attended before, but this is the first time the boys will make the trip with her. She’s has truly moved on.
(-- This is a story reprinted from the Fort Lee Traveller Newpaper circa September 2008.)
Date Taken: | 09.08.2021 |
Date Posted: | 09.08.2021 16:52 |
Story ID: | 404738 |
Location: | US |
Web Views: | 514 |
Downloads: | 0 |
This work, Soldier moves on after 9/11 loss, by Terrance Bell, identified by DVIDS, must comply with the restrictions shown on https://www.dvidshub.net/about/copyright.