Can Superman protect us?

Will the bad guys get us? My son wants to know. I’m paying bills when he erupts into panic mode. Mom? Mom! I move the mail aside and look him in the eye. No, we are safe.

But what about Mr. Fox? He’s fascinated by the furry villain, along with Mr. Grinch and the Big Bad Wolf – his go-to bad guys who at any moment could be lurking in the woods ready to pounce and make a stew of us.

I tell him not to worry. We are far from the landscape of the Peter Rabbit cartoon. But the truth is more difficult. I’ve seen this world go dark on the brightest of days. How can I guarantee safety?

It was Sept. 11, 2001. I was living on Long Island, commuting to New York City. I had a good job, a warm office, a desk filled with glossy magazines. I was childless and free. This was my safe place. Then the planes hit the towers.

My husband watched from his office in Jersey City and I watched from midtown. Television played the footage over and over again, more like a movie than reality. Safety is a perception – a fluffed towel after a hot bath, a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows –  until one day the tallest buildings crumble.

Fifty blocks from my office, people chose to jump, an alternative to the inferno inside. How do I explain terrorism to my son and daughter? He’s inquisitive when I speak of evil. Not that I do it often, but there are conversations, expression of truth, that come out as a parent. I find in these discussions, he always wants more.

I think about how I would ever approach the subject of 9/11 with my son. When the Big Bad Wolf is mentioned, my son tells me not to worry. For Halloween he will be Superman. He will dress in blue and red, with an “S” on his chest and fight the bad guys without guns or weapons. He will protect us.

The last memory I have of 9/11 is the train ride home. By 11 p.m. the Long Island Railroad was back in service. My husband and I sat side by side holding hands, a little tighter than we ever had before.

One day my children will learn what happened on 9/11. They will listen as teachers recount the tragedy of the terror attacks. They will read about it in textbooks and talk about it in history class. And one day, I will tell them about the real bad guys – the terrorists who killed thousands that day. Until then, I am crossing my fingers that Superman always feels mighty and never feels threatened.