“The Rising” by Bruce Springsteen,

From The Rising, 2002.

Autumn of Red, White, and Blue

That Tuesday was a serene, balmy blue,

Perfect September morning.

Thoughts of playing hooky flitted into my head.

But bills are due, plus they count on me,

Came out the other side.

On September eleventh, two thousand and one,

They were working too, in their offices and cubes,

With phones ringing and keyboards clattering

Down at the Pentagon and up at the World Trade Center.

Do your job; do it every day-- it’s the American way.

The soft rock music station abruptly cut out,

Announcing that a commercial airplane had crashed

Into the North tower of the World Trade Center!

For a few minutes we hoped it was a tragic accident--

Then the nightmare: the South tower had been struck!

 In shock, we left our desks and ran outside;

Our New Jersey office was sixty-five miles from there.

We turned toward New York and looked up at the sky.

There was smoke-- massive black billows.

Endless, hideous, hellish billows and billows.

We stood speechless as it sank in what we witnessed.

It’s the Jihad! -- the Holy War!

There were no words then, nor are there now

That could describe the realization of the

Murders, the cremations, the genocide of thousands.

There was nothing to say--

It was the end of the world as we knew it.

Like wooden soldiers we filed back to our posts,

Trying to function as the news broke of Flight # 77

Crashing into the Pentagon-- And Flight #93,

Brave citizens having stormed the cockpit,

Crashed to the ground near Pittsburgh.

My bewildered brain tried to fathom

How God could approve of this depraved carnage.

The God I know condemns murder and suicide!

 It’s a Commandment!

 I try not to hate the terrorists, but loving the enemy,

God forgive me, is a stretch.

Time stood still, the office eerily

Silent as the horror continued.

We learned of the collapse of the buildings,

The evacuation of the White House.

The first responders rushed to the rescue,

Doing their jobs--

They didn’t get to go home either….

Panicked with worry, we tried to make contact,

Get word about loved ones living or working nearby.

America’s heart was broken that day,

But the American spirit is resilient.

We wanted to help, do something to help—

We went to Ground Zero

Bearing bottled water, Power Bars, and blankets. 

And money-- we sent money.

We knew we had to carry on;

 We must get through this together.

We cannot let our American heroes die in vain.

The colors of autumn were red, white, and blue

That year, peppered and streaked with black.

So, we went to work, did our jobs every day as they did.

To this day, I still hear them say, “Let’s roll.”

Forever may the Bell of Liberty toll.

Lisa Cole-Allen

I remember how Americans, indeed the world, reeled in

shock and agony at the losses of our friends and family from

many nations who unsuspecting did their jobs on 9/11.

We picked ourselves up and continued with our lives.  It was

 what we had to do to honor our lost ones.  We could not give

in to despair.  The fall and winter passed in a haze of grief as we

 grimly absorbed the extent of the devastation and gathered

the tattered remnants of our new normalcy. 

In the summer of 2002, Bruce Springsteen released The Rising, an

album of literature in song which poignantly traced what we all

felt inside.   I have chosen its title track, “The Rising,” a multiple

Grammy Award winner and chosen song for Barack Obama’s

inaugural celebration in 2009, to analyze line by line.  The song title

itself has been misinterpreted by retaliation minded listeners as

promoting an uprising, which is far removed from  Springsteen’s

purpose.  A music video touted to be the official promotional video

was released which begins with the word “RAGE,” a word completely

inconsistent with the meaning and intent of the song.  This video was

not endorsed by Springsteen, apparently a homemade bootleg.  I present

a video of "The Rising" performed live at Barcelona.

“The Rising”

Can't see nothin' in front of me
Can't see nothin' coming up behind
Make my way through this darkness
I can't feel nothing but this chain that binds me
Lost track of how far I've gone
How far I've gone, how high I've climbed
On my back's a sixty pound stone
On my shoulder a half mile of line

Come on up for the rising
Come on up, lay your hands in mine
Come on up for the rising
Come on up for the rising tonight

Left the house this morning
Bells ringing filled the air
I was wearin' the cross of my calling
On wheels of fire I come rollin' down here

Come on up for the rising
Come on up, lay your hands in mine
Come on up for the rising
Come on up for the rising tonight

Li,li, li,li,li,li, li,li,li - li,li, li,li,li,li, li,li,li - li,li, li,li,li,li, li,li,li

There's spirits above and behind me
Faces gone black, eyes burnin' bright
May their precious blood bind me
Lord, as I stand before your fiery light

Li,li, li,li,li,li, li,li,li - li,li, li,li,li,li, li,li,li - li,li, li,li,li,li, li,li,li

I see you Mary in the garden
In the garden of a thousand sighs
There's holy pictures of our children
Dancin' in a sky filled with light
May I feel your arms around me
May I feel your blood mix with mine
A dream of life comes to me
Like a catfish dancin' on the end of my line

Sky of blackness and sorrow (a dream of life)
Sky of love, sky of tears (a dream of life)
Sky of glory and sadness (a dream of life)
Sky of mercy, sky of fear (a dream of life)
Sky of memory and shadow (a dream of life)
Your burnin' wind fills my arms tonight
Sky of longing and emptiness (a dream of life)
Sky of fullness, sky of blessed life

Come on up for the rising
Come on up, lay your hands in mine
Come on up for the rising
Come on up for the rising tonight

Li,li, li,li,li,li, li,li,li - li,li, li,li,li,li, li,li,li - li,li, li,li,li,li, li,li,li.

Bruce Springsteen wrote “The Rising” in the point of view

of a firefighter entering the World Trade Center to save lives

on the morning of 9/11.

Can't see nothin' in front of me
Can't see nothin' coming up behind
Make my way through this darkness
I can't feel nothing but this chain that binds me
Lost track of how far I've gone
How far I've gone, how high I've climbed
On my back's a sixty pound stone
On my shoulder a half mile of line.

The fireman laboriously makes his way through the burning

building, blinded by the thick, black smoke, weighed down by

the heavy oxygen tank and hose, disoriented in location, and

numb to any feeling “but this chain that binds [him].” He is bound

by his duty to go into that building regardless of the risk to his own

life; it’s his job. The chorus follows this passage, which I will defer

until the ending.

Left the house this morning
Bells ringing filled the air
I was wearin' the cross of my calling
On wheels of fire I come rollin' down here.

The fireman left the firehouse that morning alerted by the alarm

 bell that rang through the air. “I was wearin’ the cross of my calling.”

This line may be taken literally, that he is wearing the crucifix of

 his Christian calling, or metaphorically, the cross being his uniform,

 the outward sign of the calling of his profession. The “wheels of fire”

 represent the fire truck speeding to the scene of this dire emergency. 

There's spirits above and behind me
Faces gone black, eyes burnin' bright
May their precious blood bind me
Lord, as I stand before your fiery light.

The firefighter is aware there are casualties, the dead both

above and behind him, their faces now black.  But their “eyes

burnin’ bright” tell us that their spirits have risen and live on.

He is aware that he will die as well, and he prays: “May their

precious blood bind me, Lord, as I stand before your fiery light.”

I see you Mary in the garden
In the garden of a thousand sighs
There's holy pictures of our children
Dancin' in a sky filled with light
May I feel your arms around me
May I feel your blood mix with mine
A dream of life comes to me
Like a catfish dancin' on the end of my line.

He is now on the verge of his own death; he pictures his wife in

 the cemetery, “the garden of a thousand sighs.”  He sees the

“holy pictures of [their] children” and reviews the life he is leaving

before “dancin’ in a sky filled with light,” the afterlife.  He does not

want to leave his earthly existence, his physical life: “May I feel

your arms around me; may I feel your blood mix with mine.”  All the

while, he thinks of heaven, life everlasting: “A dream of life comes to

 me, like a catfish dancin’ on the end of my line;” just out of reach.

Sky of blackness and sorrow (a dream of life)
Sky of love, sky of tears (a dream of life)
Sky of glory and sadness (a dream of life)
Sky of mercy, sky of fear (a dream of life)
Sky of memory and shadow (a dream of life)
Your burnin' wind fills my arms tonight
Sky of longing and emptiness (a dream of life)
Sky of fullness, sky of blessed life.

This mystical, spiritual passage never fails to bring me to tears,

 as the firefighter leaves this life, symbolized by images of the sky:

 blackness, sorrow, love, tears, glory, sadness, mercy, fear, memory,

and shadow. He dreams of everlasting life.  He rises like an angel

“Your burnin’ wind fills my arms tonight.” He leaves behind the “sky

of longing and emptiness and ascends to the “sky of fullness, sky of

blessed life.”

Come on up for the rising
Come on up, lay your hands in mine
Come on up for the rising
Come on up for the rising tonight

Li,li, li,li,li,li, li,li,li - li,li, li,li,li,li, li,li,li - li,li, li,li,li,li, li,li,li

The song ends with the chorus, a strong and rousing message

that urges those left behind to individually and together honor

the lost, ”lay your hands in mine,” by rising above the sorrow of

the morning of September eleventh and “tonight” find peace.

The li, li, li, ending of the song is reminiscent of hallelujahs.

“The Rising” by Bruce Springsteen is a song of colossal meanings

which apply to the world situation and to day-to-day life.  Terroristic

violence happens daily in a multitude of ways.  We see terror in the

eyes of the abused child, the battered spouse, the bank teller robbed

at gunpoint, the victim of home invasion, and the victim of rape. News

reports are fraught with terroristic acts occurring worldwide.  Human

beings must heed the words of Bruce Springsteen and “come on up

for the rising.”