“Should We Be Here?”—How Jack Buck Helped America Begin to Heal

“Should We Be Here?”—How Jack Buck and the Cardinals Helped America Begin to Heal
 

Twenty-five years ago today, America awoke to a beautiful September morning—and then watched the world change before its eyes.

On September 11, 2001, terrorists hijacked four commercial airplanes. Two were flown into the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center in New York City. Another struck the Pentagon, and the fourth crashed into a field near Shanksville, Pennsylvania, after passengers and crew members fought back.

Nearly 3,000 innocent people were killed. Families were shattered. First responders ran toward danger while others desperately tried to escape it. The images of smoke, fire and collapsing buildings became permanently etched into the nation’s memory.

Baseball stopped because America stopped.

Games were postponed. Ballparks went dark. Pennant races suddenly seemed insignificant. At a time when families were searching for loved ones and rescue workers were digging through the ruins, no one cared about standings, statistics or scores.

But baseball’s absence also reminded us why the game mattered.

It could not rebuild the Twin Towers. It could not return the lives that had been taken. It could not erase the fear or grief. But when the time was right, baseball gave Americans a familiar place to gather, remember and take one small step toward living again.

“Should We Be Here?”
Major League Baseball resumed play on September 17, six days after the attacks.

That evening at Busch Stadium, the Cardinals hosted the Milwaukee Brewers. Before the game, legendary Cardinals broadcaster Jack Buck stood behind a microphone and addressed a grieving nation.

“Should we be here?” Buck asked.

His answer was an emphatic yes.

Buck then delivered his powerful poem, For America, reminding everyone that returning to the ballpark was not an act of indifference. It was an act of defiance. Americans could mourn their dead, honor their heroes and still refuse to surrender their way of life to terrorism.

The longtime voice of the Cardinals was battling serious health problems at the time, but his voice remained strong. That night, he spoke for far more than St. Louis. He spoke for a country determined to stand again.

The Cardinals and Brewers were opponents on the field, but everyone inside Busch Stadium was on the same side. There were American flags, patriotic songs, prayers and tears. Fans stood together not merely as supporters of different teams, but as Americans.

A Home Run New York Needed
Four nights later, on September 21, professional sports returned to New York City when the Mets hosted the Atlanta Braves at Shea Stadium.

The game carried a weight no ordinary baseball game could hold.

Police officers, firefighters, emergency medical personnel and rescue workers were honored before the first pitch. Mets players wore caps representing the NYPD, FDNY and other first-response agencies. Players from both teams embraced before play began.

For a few hours, Shea Stadium became a gathering place for a wounded city.

The Mets trailed 2–1 in the bottom of the eighth inning when Mike Piazza stepped to the plate with a runner aboard. Piazza drove a pitch over the center-field wall for a two-run home run, giving New York a 3–2 lead.

The crowd erupted.

It was only a baseball game, and Piazza never pretended otherwise. But for thousands inside the stadium—and millions watching around the country—it was the first opportunity they had been given to cheer since the attacks.

For one brief moment, New Yorkers were not looking at smoke rising from Ground Zero. They were watching a baseball rise over the center-field wall.

The Mets held on to win, 3–2, but the final score was almost beside the point. Piazza’s home run became one of the most meaningful moments in baseball history because of what it gave people when they desperately needed it: a reason to stand, embrace and feel something besides sorrow.

The jersey Piazza wore that night is now preserved by the National Baseball Hall of Fame as part of the game’s history and America’s story. The Hall of Fame recounts the significance of Piazza’s jersey and home run.

A Strike From the President
Baseball’s role in the country’s recovery continued into the 2001 World Series between the New York Yankees and Arizona Diamondbacks.

Before Game 3 at Yankee Stadium on October 30, President George W. Bush walked onto the field to throw the ceremonial first pitch.

The moment carried enormous security concerns. The president wore a bulletproof vest beneath his FDNY jacket. Armed personnel guarded the stadium, and Americans watching at home understood that the country remained under threat.

Standing alone on the mound, Bush delivered a firm strike.

The crowd roared and began chanting, “USA! USA!”

It was more than a ceremonial pitch. The sight of the president standing in the middle of Yankee Stadium sent a message around the world: America was wounded, but America was still standing.

The White House later described the moment as a symbol of the nation’s determination to continue living without surrendering to fear. The George W. Bush Presidential Library preserves the historic moment.

More Than a Game
Baseball did not heal America by itself. That work belonged to grieving families, courageous first responders, rescue and recovery crews, members of the military, chaplains, churches, neighbors and ordinary citizens who carried one another through an extraordinary time.

But baseball gave them somewhere to come together.

It gave Americans a familiar rhythm when life no longer felt familiar. It placed people of different backgrounds, beliefs and political views in the same stands, beneath the same flag. It allowed a nation to remember that although terror could destroy buildings and take innocent lives, it could not completely destroy the American spirit.

For a brief period, team loyalties became secondary. Yankees and Mets caps shared space with FDNY and NYPD caps. Players embraced opponents. Crowds sang “God Bless America.” Stadiums became places of remembrance, prayer and patriotic resolve.

Baseball helped America return to normal—but “normal” did not mean forgetting what had happened. It meant finding the courage to move forward while carrying the memory of those who were gone.

Never Forget
Today, we remember the 2,977 people killed in the attacks, along with the many rescue and recovery workers who later died from illnesses connected to their service at Ground Zero. We remember the firefighters who climbed the stairs while others were coming down. We remember the police officers, emergency personnel, military members and ordinary citizens who answered the call.

And we remember a time when baseball helped bring a grieving country together.

Jack Buck’s voice in St. Louis, Mike Piazza’s home run in New York and President Bush’s first pitch at Yankee Stadium remain part of the story—not because baseball was more important than the tragedy, but because the game gave America a place to mourn, to cheer and to stand together again.

Twenty-five years later, may we remember not only where we were when the towers fell, but also who we became in the days that followed.

We were wounded, but united.

We were grieving, but resolute.

And we promised that we would never forget.

Photo Credit: Jack Buck | MLB