Refined by Fire

by Brian Birdwell

  People often ask me if I’ve forgiven Osama bin Laden, the terrorists, and the other accomplices involved in 9/11. Honestly, I have to say no. I don’t say that with great pride but out of truthfulness. It’s my responsibility as a Christian to work toward forgiveness. But I’m not there yet. It’s a daily process. Yet, I’m not bitter.

  When I look where I’ve been and where I am now, God is absolutely gracious. So if I were bitter now, after having come through the last three years, that bitterness would be grossly displaced.

  Do I desire to see justice served? Absolutely! But do I sit and stew or bemoan my altered life? No. We serve a magnificent God. As a Christian I work through the process of forgiving those who hurt me because I know ultimately God will judge rightly and the people who chose evil will receive their just reward. Knowing that God will handle the judgment, I don’t have to harbor feelings for revenge. Mel and I accentuate our relationship with God, not our hatred or our unforgiveness of the organizations that have supported this type of evil.

  And yet it’s going to take a long time to forgive and move on. This is probably the toughest part of my faith. I’m learning how to forgive when forgiveness doesn’t come easily. I think it will take years for me to completely forgive Osama bin Laden and his minions. As long as I maintain Christ as my center, I’m confident there will be a day when I can forgive the terrorists and Osama bin Laden. I still deal with anger toward them—especially when I read something new about them or see photos of bin Laden, Mohammad Atta, or the eighteen other hijackers. But I try not to dwell on it. I continue to live my life to the best of my ability, for that’s the best way for me to get to the point of forgiveness.

  So even though I continue to have a great zeal for justice, the best example Mel and I can give is not one of hatred toward our enemies. Instead, we recognize that what these people intended for evil the Lord has turned into good. It’s been a rough experience to get to this point. But when we tell our story, it’s an extremely positive, faith-oriented story. We want people to hear our story and think, There has to be something to this, for somebody to have gone through these types of challenges and still be able to say the Lord was with them.

  Mel

  I don’t struggle as much with unforgiveness as Brian does because I just don’t focus on it. I choose not to think about it. I know the ultimate justice is God’s justice—and he will handle it.

  Matt still struggles with anger and unforgiveness. He’s asked me a few times, “Could Dad still die?” He is so afraid of that and is very protective of Brian. Brian and I try to let him know how much we love him and that we’re all going through this together.

  For a little more than a year Matt talked constantly about what he’d like to do to Osama bin Laden. He would tell me, “If I was in a room with Osama bin Laden, he would not leave the room.” We don’t hear him say that much anymore. I think he’s grown out of it. He realizes that life is good. What happened to his dad was a horrible thing. It’s not a problem we’ve forgotten. But it’s a problem that we, as citizens of this nation, have delegated to the responsibility of the federal, state, and local authorities. And in the meantime while they’re working on the war on terror, we’re living our lives. I think probably a big part of that, too, is that as a nation we’re moving away from 9/11. It’s not constantly in Matt’s face as it was. He doesn’t have to dwell on it day in and day out.

  Matt had some difficult times while we were writing this book. One night as we discussed what we wanted to include, Matt walked into the room and overheard us talking about what Brian experienced in the Pentagon. Matt started to cry and ran from the room. It’s still a tender subject for him, and probably will be for the rest of his life.

  Brian underwent counseling with our pastors to work through the spiritual issues of our experience. I never went to counseling until I realized we were going to write this book. I knew it was going to be very emotionally overwhelming to revisit all of the details. There are times when I can talk about the story and be completely emotionally detached from it, not even feel anything. Then there are times I can think about it and spend the day sobbing. So I thought, Okay, I’m either going to handle this as a mental meltdown, or I’ve got to deal with this. So I dealt with it. I found a Christian counselor who helped me work through a lot of strategies in dealing with my anger. She also helped me to see that I had a lot more trauma in my life than I realized. She was a good sounding board and helped me work through some coping mechanisms to handle the experience of revisiting the horrors in graphic detail all over again. She encouraged me to be honest and to allow myself to feel the things I had not allowed myself to feel, because at the time I didn’t have the strength to take care of Matt and Brian and deal with my own issues.

  I think we’re far more in tune with each other now than we were before because I became accustomed to anticipating his needs. We’re much more relaxed than we were before too. I think probably one of the greatest things that has come out of this is Brian’s sense of humor, because he really didn’t have one before the attack. Matthew called him “Fun Fighter McDoom” or “Mr. Negativity.” He was always serious.

  There were always the thou shalt nots rather than the thou shalts. He was always finding the lesson or the theology in something and accentuating the serious side of life. Recently Matt earned some money that he wanted to spend at the mall, but it was late in the evening. Before 9/11 Brian would never have taken him to the mall. Going that late wasn’t pragmatic, and the trip may have been too much fun! But this time we went—as a family. And that’s just one small example of how Brian has lightened up.

  Brian

  I’ve also tried to relax my old drill-instructor style of fathering Matt. I’m more conscious of how I come across to him. I try to laugh more with him. I’m learning what’s critical and what isn’t.

  I’ve even learned to laugh at myself. It puts me—and others—at ease.

  Several months ago I called my friend Steve Ener. He told me, “Your ears must be burning. I was just thinking about you.”

  I started to laugh and said, “Oh man, don’t say, ‘ears are burning.’ ”

  Mel and I also laughed about my arms when both of them were still not extending fully. They were almost at a ninety-degree angle. So when I would go shopping with Mel, I would tease her and say that she liked me to go shopping with her because she could put her purse over my right arm and the clothes she was going to try on over my left arm, and it took no effort for me to hold them. They were frozen in that position.

  I like that I’m not as uptight anymore. I appreciate my family much more because of this horrific experience. Mel and I have been married more than sixteen years, and we have always had a strong relationship. Yet we were also like a lot of couples—snapping from time to time, then apologizing. We still argue over whether to have pizza or burgers, about whether we can afford something. But now we really cherish our time together. And I always think about how I say good-bye to her in the mornings.

  Mel

  My relationship with God is stronger than it has ever been. Is the intensity the same now as during those most critical days? Sadly, no. I miss the closeness I had with God, but I am still growing and learning every day.

  I spoke with a friend of mine whose husband died a few years ago, and she said she went through the same thing spiritually. We both had an intense relationship with God during those crisis moments, when we felt God’s presence around us continually. But as Brian healed, I seemed to depend less and less on God, which is wrong and I know it. While I completely depended on God in the lowest of valleys, the mountaintop experiences of life are where I take him for granted at times. I miss the spiritual focus I had with God at the time. But I don’t miss dealing—on a minute-by-minute basis—with the tragedy.

  Brian

  I can assure you that if there were any way I could have avoided all this, I would have. I am very proud of my Purple Heart, but I’d trade it for the Brian of September 10 in a seco
nd.

  So many people have asked us: Because of the ministry we now have, because of the way God is using our story, is it worth it?

  Would I still have done this if I knew the plane was coming? And the answer is easily no.

  Yet I can also answer yes. If what Mel and I have experienced causes even one person to make a decision to become a Christ follower, then it was worth it.

  While it hasn’t been a pleasant experience by any means, ultimately I know that in the course of eternity this life is like a poof of wind. If one person begins a relationship with Christ because of my experiences and I’m stuck with this body for the next thirty years, what’s thirty years with this body knowing that another person will join me in heaven for eternity? While we would never have chosen this path, the Lord allowed us to have this experience, and we’re responding as faithful followers of Jesus.

  Mel

  When people ask me, “Was it worth it?” I easily and without hesitation answer, “Absolutely.” Even through all that pain, I learned a lesson about God’s sovereignty. It has deepened my faith and my relationship with God, and it has given me an opportunity to share Christ boldly. Our church’s three tenets are:

  1. Seek him constantly.

  2. Serve him faithfully.

  3. Share him boldly.

  This experience has given me the opportunity to put those tenets to work.

  It has also been an opportunity for Matt to see what putting feet to your faith means and to see the truth of what God can do in your life. As a twelve-year-old he witnessed some mighty miracles in his parents’ lives. And he experienced them too. This ordeal is going to be a testimony of how God’s going to use him through all of this.

  Brian

  I’m not sure what the future holds. After twenty years in the military, I’m set to retire from the Army in 2004. While I’ll miss being a soldier, I realize I can no longer fully complete the duties the Army requires. I’ve loved being in the Army. It has provided a good career and many opportunities to fulfill my interests and abilities. But with the retirement, Mel and I will be able to focus completely on working with Face the Fire Ministries, Inc. My public speaking is the best contribution I can make both to my faith and to the Army.

  I know God has a purpose for my life. God continues to open doors and show me glimpses of what he has for me to do. I’m committed to yield every day to his will.

  Mel

  I’ve always been a news junkie, but now I have a need to know what’s happening in the world. Other than that, my life is back to normal. Once Brian was able to do things for himself again, my life returned to being a wife and a mom instead of a caregiver.

  Matt’s going to public school now. I enjoy quilting, having lunch with friends, and attending a weekly Bible study. Life is good once again.

  Debi Davis, a friend of mine who took me back and forth from the hospital many times, arranged to have my house cleaned, and prayed and visited us consistently, walked up to me after our church’s 2002 Memorial Day service. It was the first Memorial Day service after 9/11 and was a very emotionally difficult and draining day for our family. Debi put her arm around me and whispered in my ear, “Sometimes the ultimate sacrifice doesn’t involve giving your life. It could be giving a lot of other things, too.” She’s right. Brian has given almost all he had for his country, short of his life. That is our ultimate sacrifice.

  Photos

  One of the first pictures Mel saw of a young LT Brian Birdwell, shown here in Korea, 1984

  LT Brian Birdwell leads a road march in Korea, 1985.

  Mel and Brian Birdwell at their wedding in Davis, Oklahoma, May 16, 1987

  Brian tells two-week-old Matthew something very important, 1989.

  Brian, Mel, and Matt, September 1999

  CPT Brian Birdwell and CPT Gary Taylor during Operation Desert Storm, Iraq, 1991

  LTC Hope Jones, (then COL, now MG) Virgil L. Packett II, and Brian, then Major, Birdwell in Guatemala, February 1999

  CPT Brian Birdwell and (then Major, now BRIG GEN) Richard Formica in Hohnfels, Germany, 1993

  MAJ GEN R. L. Van Antwerp, Brian, Matt, and Mel at Brian’s promotion to Lieutenant Colonel, November 30, 2000

  COL Steve Shambach looks on as Mel pins on Brian’s LTC rank.

  LTC Brian Birdwell at his desk in the Pentagon, March 2001

  Brian and Matt at the ACSIM annual picnic, September 7, 2001

  Aerial view of the Pentagon following the terrorist attack of 9/11

  The Pentagon following the terrorist attack—X marks the spot of impact. Brian’s office window is circled.

  President George W. Bush thanks Dr. Marion Jordan, Director of the Burn Center at the Washington Hospital Center, September 13, 2001.

  President Bush as he leaves Brian’s ICU room at the Washington Hospital Center, September 13, 2001

  Washington Redskins Jeff George and Chris Samuels visit Brian in the ICU, September 18, 2001.

  Retired Kansas City Chiefs kicker Nick Lowry visits Brian in the ICU, October 5, 2001.

  Brian, Mel, and then Chief of Staff of the Army, GEN (RET) Eric K. Shinseki, who presented Brian with a Purple Heart for wounds sustained on September 11, 2001

  Brian administers the oath of re-enlistment to SGT Bigelow, October 16, 2001.

  (Then Army Vice Chief of Staff, now GEN [RET]) Jack Keane and Brian visit at the Washington Hospital Center on Thanksgiving Day 2001.

  Brian and Matt pose in front of the banner hung by the Birdwells’ neighbors to celebrate Brian’s homecoming, December 14, 2001.

  LTC Brian Birdwell and MAJ John Collison in the hallway of the Pentagon, July 2002. John accompanied Brian to Georgetown on 9/11 and held his wedding band for him.

  Brian at the Pentagon Memorial Chapel in May 2002, etching the names of Sandra Taylor and Cheryle Sincock, his coworkers who were killed on 9/11

  Matt and Brian at the Olympic Torch Ceremony at the Pentagon, December 18, 2001

  LTC Brian Birdwell’s first day back at work at the Pentagon, March 12, 2002

  Brian and Mel with the Ogletree family—Natalie, Mark, Avery, and Aaron. Natalie prayed with Brian in the hallway as he was being triaged on 9/11.

  First Lady Laura Bush, President Bush, and Brian share a “Texan moment” at the White House prior to the Concert for America, September 9, 2002.

  A piece of the original Pentagon façade damaged in the attack. It was returned to the original quarry, engraved with President Bush’s quote, and is now mounted in the Pentagon A Ring, 1st floor, Corridor 4.

  President Bush and Brian exchange salutes in the diplomatic reception area at the White House, September 9, 2002.

  Brian, Mel, and Bob Lepine of FamilyLife Ministries celebrating the presentation of the Robertson McQuilkin Award for Commitment in Marriage to Mel on June 22, 2002

  Mel, Brian, and Matt meet with Brit Hume in Washington DC prior to an interview for FOX News Live in February 2002.

  NFL Hall of Fame Quarterback Len Dawson and Brian in the radio booth at Arrowhead Stadium during the Kansas City Chiefs home opener, September 15, 2002

  Brian and Mel with friend and musician Dennis Jernigan in Oklahoma City, September 2002

  Brian visits with young burn victim Jonathan Smith at Regions Burn Center, St. Paul, Minnesota, December 5, 2003.

  Epilogue

  Nearly nine years have passed since our nation was attacked and thousands of lives were changed from the events of that day. Mel and I have had numerous opportunities to spend time with critical-burn survivors—both civilian and military—and we have met many of the medical professionals who care for them in burn centers across the country. During the last several years, we have been privileged to visit with patients and medical staff members at burn centers in Portland, Oregon; St. Paul, Minnesota; Rochester, New York; Dallas and Lubbock, Texas; Chapel Hill, North Carolina; Los Angeles, Birmingham, Las Vegas, Pittsburgh, and many other cities. Of course, we are always blessed to visit our “home” burn unit at the
Washington Hospital Center, keeping in touch with the medical specialists to whom we owe so much. The greatest privilege is encouraging those wounded servicemen and women recovering at our military medical centers—in particular, the Brooke Army Medical Center (BAMC), home of the military’s only burn center, where we have visited many who are recovering from grievous injury. We see it as an honor to encourage these fine men and women, and a duty to say thank you to those who have paid the price because of what happened on September 11, 2001. We have also had the privilege of sharing a great story of God’s grace in our own lives and reminding people of the realities of living in a dangerous world, as we have shared our experiences with thousands of Americans across the country.

  Though Mel and I began Face the Fire Ministries to encourage other burn survivors, we’ve also been greatly encouraged by these visits. It takes a great deal of toughness to survive a critical burn, and we have met so many families that have walked the same dark road in the aftermath of devastating injuries.

  In 2005, we met a young U.S. Marine who had been terribly burned—over 97 percent of his total body surface—while serving in Iraq. With remarkable fortitude, he took survival and recovery as his new mission and endured the agony and daily challenges of life in a burn center. He spent nine months in the ICU and more than a year in step-down care once he was out of the ICU. During our time with him, we never heard him complain, and we heard and observed his encouragement to other marines and soldiers. In April 2008, during his 150th trip to the operating room, he unexpectedly passed away. To his fellow warriors, though, he continues to be an inspiration; and through the foundation he formed, Merlin’s Miracles, he continues to affect the lives of children with serious burns.