But now Americans, they felt a sense of peace and protection

Hearken, children of tomorrow, to the lament of Patty Hearst, spoken in a time when the world’s illusions shattered: “But now Americans, they felt a sense of peace and protection because they’ve been separated by so many thousands of miles of ocean. And you know, the fact that it’s come to the U.S. like this is so sad, and yet you know, what can you do? It’s here.” In these words lies the cry of a people who once believed themselves untouchable, sheltered by the vastness of the seas, only to discover that distance is no shield against the storms of fate. It is the awakening from a long dream of safety, a recognition that sorrow and strife respect no borders.

The meaning of these words is not bound merely to one land or one time. They reveal the ancient truth: that no fortress, however high its walls, no sea, however wide its expanse, can forever hold back the reach of calamity. For men believe that because danger has not yet touched them, it never will. They wrap themselves in false peace, as though distance or power could turn aside the hand of destiny. Yet when the tide comes crashing upon their own shores, they awaken with shock and grief, whispering, “It is here.”

The story of America’s oceans echoes the story of many nations. Think of the Great Wall of China, built to hold back the steppe raiders. For a time, it brought the people a sense of invincibility, as though stone could silence history. But the Mongol horsemen came, swift as the wind, leaping over stone through cunning and endurance, and the illusion of safety was broken. So too, Hearst’s words recall that when peril crosses the waters, no amount of distance or wealth can hold it back.

Consider, too, the tale of Pearl Harbor in 1941. Until that day, many Americans believed the oceans rendered them immune to the flames of world war. Yet, in one morning’s fire and smoke, the Pacific carried destruction to their very doors. That which had seemed a barrier became a path, and the illusion of untouchable peace dissolved into the sobering knowledge that all are vulnerable, that no land is too distant, no people too favored, to escape the reach of suffering. Hearst’s lament carries the echo of that same awakening: security is fleeting, and sorrow may come unbidden.

And yet, within this grief lies also a seed of wisdom. To realize that oceans cannot save us, that borders cannot shield us, is to learn that the only true defense is not isolation, but vigilance and unity. To say “what can you do?” is not to give in to despair, but to recognize the limits of our illusions. It is a call to rise, to prepare not only our cities but our hearts, to meet the storm when it arrives rather than hiding in the false comfort of distance.

The lesson for us all is this: do not place your faith in walls, in seas, in the outward symbols of safety. Place your faith instead in courage, in wisdom, in the bonds of community that endure even when the storm breaks down the gates. Let the awareness of vulnerability not bring fear, but resolve. For the man who knows he is not invincible walks more carefully, lives more wisely, and cherishes peace more dearly.

As for practical action, let each person examine the places where they feel “untouchable.” Ask yourself: what illusions of safety do I cling to? Is it wealth, status, distance, or denial? Then, prepare—not with paranoia, but with wisdom. Build resilience in your own life: strengthen relationships, cultivate skills, nurture compassion. For while the storm may come, it cannot wholly break a people who stand together, who have already accepted that safety is not a gift of geography but a work of spirit.

Thus, Patty Hearst’s words, born of sorrow, become a timeless teaching. Oceans may guard us for a time, but not forever. Peace is precious not because it is unbreakable, but because it is fragile. Let us hold it gently, protect it fiercely, and live awake to the truth: what we fear may one day arrive at our own doors. And when it does, let us not collapse in despair, but rise as those who, knowing the truth, are ready to endure.