CLARKESVILLE, Ga. — Nearly fifty residents of Habersham County stood gathered by the stage at the Chattahoochee Mountain Fair, their patriotism palpable. Around them, carnival rides groaned, vendors hawked their wares, and children shrieked with delight, the sounds of festivity running up against the gravity of remembrance.
Yet beneath the familiar verve of a patriotic pageant lay the deeper solemnity associated with the annual rites of 9/11, and, for the first time in recent commemorations, a current of anger. The reason was plain. The name Charlie Kirk surfaced in the expressions, remarks, and steely gazes of many interviewed and those gathered for the occasion.
Many lament how, as a nation, we find ourselves confronting the consequences of forgetting how to disagree with civility. That tension carries an unsettling echo of 9/11 itself: a day when hatred turned violent. Many at Thursday’s ceremony drew a direct line between past acts of terror and the dangers of political violence today.
Reciting
The program moved in deliberate stages. A poem opened the evening, then the color guard stepped forward, their uniforms tailored to the wars they represented, rifles and flags carried with formal precision. First responders followed, standing in recognition of their service. A choir lifted the spirits of those assembled with patriotic songs, including the national anthem and Lee Greenwood’s Proud to Be an American.
A bell tolled in a remembrance ceremony, each strike lingering in silence. From just beyond the building came the crack of a gun salute, then the thunder of a cannon shaking the ground. Taps closed the ceremony, its final notes drawing hands to hearts, the crowd motionless in the fading autumnal light.
Roy English of Toccoa stood before the crowd in a cowboy hat and an American-flag shirt, reciting Johnny Cash’s poem “The Ragged Old Flag.”
He had come to the fair with a booth for Child Evangelism Fellowship, but when he learned the program included a veterans’ night, he asked to join in. Like many men of his generation, he was eager to play his part.
When I asked what he hoped the next generation would take away from 9/11, he paused before answering.
“Oh boy,” he said. “Well, I just hope the youth don’t forget. We lost a remarkable spokesman in Charlie Kirk. I believe someone will rise to pick up his torch and help guide the younger generations. He will be deeply missed, I can tell you.”
Remembering
For others, remembrance took the form of personal memory. “We should never forget,” said Reba Hunter, a longtime fair volunteer and former Hollywood, Georgia, restaurant owner. “It’s just real important to me. When I owned Reba’s Buffet and Grille, I used to invite the fire department to come out, and they would lower the flag and raise it again.”
Kimberly Foster, the fair’s vice president, put it more broadly. “I believe that day impacted us all. As a community, we cannot forget. We have to honor those who gave their lives, and those who have served to keep the United States free.”
A young mother, pushing a stroller, spoke more sharply. Her face darkened as she considered the question of why remembrance matters. “If people remembered,” she said, “Charlie Kirk would be alive.”
Rebuilding
On stage, Commander D.W. “Bill” Miles urged the audience to stand “united and unwavering.” He described the heroism of first responders and of ordinary Americans who risked everything to help their neighbors. Even as attackers sought to break the nation, he reminded the crowd, Americans rebuilt: the Pentagon restored, the Pennsylvania field green again, and a skyscraper rising where the towers once stood. With American Legion Post 84 Commander Jim Morgan, he then led the bell ceremony, honoring those who lost their lives.
Others reflected on what 9/11 had meant for their work.
“This community is very supportive of first responders and law enforcement, and it means a lot,” said Habersham County Emergency Services Director Jeff Adams. The attacks, he said, caused many in public safety to “step back” and rethink their work. “But it has built a bigger, stronger community, with folks in public safety and with the community altogether.”
Returning to civility
Habersham County Manager Tim Sims recalled Sept. 11, 2001, with sharp clarity.
“I was at home — my two kids were sick. They were watching cartoons and took a nap, so I turned the TV [channel]. The first plane had already hit, and I watched the second plane hit the towers. We were glued to the television that day. It was a very somber day.”
Asked what message the country needs now, he answered simply: “Be kind. I don’t know what happened to the phrase ‘we can agree to disagree and not fight with each other,’ which was how I was brought up. That seems to have been lost. If you disagree with somebody, it’s like you hate them and you’re supposed to do something to them, and that’s not good. We need to do good and get the evil out of this world.”
At the Chattahoochee Mountain Fair, the clash of carnival noise and solemn commemoration mirrored a broader tension in American life, between joy and grief, between ritual and rage. Habersham County, like the nation, carried both.
