Ruffled Feathers Parrot Sanctuary Inc.

Where Hope Takes Flight

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September 11 Historical Events remind us that courage and hope have echoed through time in many forms. In 9 AD, Roman legions fell in the Teutoburg Forest, and the Rhine became a boundary that would hold for four centuries. Sometimes the most lasting victories come from knowing where to draw the line. In 1297, William Wallace stood at Stirling Bridge, proving that even the smallest force can hold against impossible odds. A few centuries later, in 1609, Henry Hudson mapped new waters. By 1850, Jenny Lind stepped onto the Castle Garden stage, her voice carrying hope across an ocean to heal a nation hungry for beauty.

These September 11 historical events remind us that courage, compassion, and hope echo across centuries. Here at the sanctuary, that same hope still beats in every wing and heartbeat today.

The Pentagon’s construction began in 1941 – five sides to shelter those who shelter others. Chile’s course changed in a day in 1973. In 1997, NASA’s Mars Global Surveyor reached the red planet, proving that hope travels farther than despair. That same year, Scotland chose its own path toward independence.

However, this date tells yet another story through twenty years of Facebook posts – one of small wings, big hearts, and a hope that refuses to quit. It’s the same hope that threads through September 11 throughout history, whether carried by Roman engineers, Swedish singers, or tiny beaks.

Our September 11 scroll reads like a love letter to resilience, written in molted feathers and midnight rescues – September 11 throughout history written in different ink, but always about protecting what matters.

In 2017, Kiki – our featherless superhero – spotted a T-Rex display at Home Depot and sounded an alarm that brought half the store running. Ever the guardian, he protects his flock even from plastic dinosaurs. Those same instincts mirror the courage that drove Wallace’s soldiers to hold the bridge and the planners of the Pentagon to design five-sided strength.

On that same day, Magic reminded us that “only in the darkness can you see the stars.” That wisdom would have served the legions in Teutoburg Forest. It also echoed Jenny Lind’s voice across the darkness of the Atlantic and guided Mars Global Surveyor through the void between worlds. Sometimes the wisest words come from the smallest voices – whether they belong to birds, revolutionaries, or explorers charting unknown territories.

Every Bird Has a Story

Ray Ray strolls through Lowe’s like he owns the place, greeting strangers with the kind of manners that restore your faith in good mornings. That same faith drove ancient engineers to build roads they’d never walk and sent a spacecraft 300 million miles, hoping for a signal back home. Meanwhile, Pepper presents his face with an expression that clearly says, “Deposit one grape here.” It’s customer service at its finest – diplomatic protocol that would make the framers of the British Mandate proud.

In 2018, we met Beast, a baby who needed help from a stranger named Judy. That call came on September 12 – the day after everything changed. It proved that September 11 historical events don’t end when the calendar turns. The same energy that rebuilt after Teutoburg crossed the ocean to hear Jenny Lind sing. It built new defenses after attack and kept transmitting signals to Mars even when silence seemed more likely.

By 2019, I was writing about not wanting to leave the house, but duty called anyway. “Injured squirrel in a box” became the whole day’s mission because that’s what September 12 energy looks like – mercy that doesn’t wait for perfect conditions. It’s the same mercy that built field hospitals after the Swiss rockslide of 1881. It’s the same spirit that turned Castle Garden Theatre into a cathedral of beauty when America needed healing and that designed the Pentagon to be both fortress and office.

Each year, the work continues – new rescues, new lessons, and new proof that hope doesn’t quit. Even when the days feel long and the nights stretch too far, compassion always returns with the sunrise.

That call came on September 12 – the day after everything changed – proving once again that September 11 historical events don’t end when the calendar turns. A cockatoo’s first brave step onto an outstretched hand mirrors every moment of trust rebuilt after collapse. Romans learned new borders after defeat. Americans opened their hearts to Swedish song. Engineers designed five-sided safety after Pearl Harbor reminded them that safety is never guaranteed.

Between rescue calls and midnight feedings, there are quieter victories that echo across centuries. Each small act of trust carries the same courage that built bridges, sailed oceans, and sent signals through space. A cockatoo’s hesitant step onto a hand may look small, but it’s the same heartbeat that powered armies, dreamers, and survivors through history.

🦜 Finding Joy in the Mess

Our feed weaves together lunchtime bird facts, Congo peacock deep dives, and Hamish – our very opinionated interior designer – who redecorated with pomegranate. Bold choice. Questionable execution. Tara films herself saying, “Please excuse the mess, I’m enjoying my night.” That’s sanctuary code for loving the moment exactly as it is. Vacuum lines optional.

Grace in the Chaos

That same acceptance let Scotland choose its own messy path to independence. It let NASA celebrate a successful Mars orbit despite years of setbacks. And it’s the same grace that lets us find joy in chaos, even when feathers fly and life gets loud.

If history is made of grand gestures – battles fought, stages conquered, planets reached – our scroll is built from a thousand tiny votes for life. Hudson mapped a harbor. We map trust – one syringe at a time when medicine tastes like betrayal, one grape at a time when peace looks like a tiny beak tapping your palm. The Romans built roads that lasted centuries. We build trust that lasts a lifetime. Jenny Lind’s voice carried across oceans. Our birds’ songs carry across heartbreak.

The Pentagon was designed to be impenetrable, five sides to defend against every angle of attack. In contrast, our flight cages follow a freer geometry – open doors, unlocked gates, and walls meant to be climbed. Yet both architectures serve the same purpose: shelter for those who need it and strength for those who provide it. That lesson repeats across centuries of September 11 historical events, from ancient Rome to modern America.

💚 Building Toward Healing Together

When they broke ground on the Pentagon in 1941, they were building against the possibility of loss. Each time we hang another heat lamp or set up a quarantine cage, we’re building toward the certainty of healing. It’s a different kind of construction. Still, the same blueprint applies: make room for what matters and build walls strong enough to hold hope.

In 1997, Mars Global Surveyor traveled 300 million miles to send back pictures of a red, distant world. Likewise, every rescue call that comes in after midnight – and every stranger who stops on the highway for an injured bird – are the same signals sent across impossible distances that define September 11 throughout history.

The spacecraft that reached Mars that September day carried instruments designed to detect signs of life. Meanwhile, our sanctuary phones carry voices determined to create it. Both work from the same faith. After all, the distance between need and help isn’t measured in miles but in the willingness to answer when something calls.

The thread connecting September 11 throughout history isn’t just memory – it’s mission. Romans lost at Teutoburg but learned to build better borders. Similarly, Jenny Lind crossed an ocean and discovered that healing travels both ways. Even the Pentagon, once struck, taught the world that strength isn’t just about walls. Here at the sanctuary, we answer the phone at 2 AM not because we’re stronger than history, but because we’re part of it.

“Never forget” isn’t a slogan here – it’s a shift report. In 2017, Kiki – our featherless superhero – spotted a T-Rex display at Home Depot and sounded an alarm that brought half the store running. Ever the guardian, he protects his flock even from plastic dinosaurs. Those same instincts mirror the courage that drove Wallace’s soldiers to hold the bridge and the planners of the Pentagon to design five-sided strength. His instincts know that protecting the flock matters, whether the danger is real or imagined. In the end, it’s all the same mission – to care, to protect, to love.

September 11 throughout history taught me that scale doesn’t define worth. A nation healing and a single bird learning to trust aren’t different languages – they’re the same story told with different characters, the same hope carried on different wings. Some days bring presidential speeches and memorial services. Others bring Magic’s soft preening that keeps me awake long enough to finish evening meds. Either way, both share the same message: keep going. And both prove the same truth – that love scales infinitely, from cockatoo to country, from perch to planet.

So here’s my annual promise, as steady as a heartbeat and as stubborn as a cockatoo with a plan: we will never forget. More importantly, we’ll always live like it’s September 12 – eyes forward, sleeves rolled, choosing each other in the small ways that build something beautiful. If you need us on this date, you’ll find us where memory meets mission – somewhere between honoring what was lost and celebrating what continues to sing.

Birds don’t know it’s September 11. They have no idea about Roman defeats, Pentagon construction, or spacecraft reaching Mars. What they do know is today – a day that needs their songs, their trust, and their ridiculous optimism that tomorrow will bring fresh fruit, clean water, and, if they’re lucky, an extra scratch behind the head.

Ultimately, history keeps teaching the same lesson in different voices: the distance between catastrophe and care is measured not in centuries but in choices. Boundaries can become bridges. Songs can cross impossible distances. Hope builds itself five sides at a time – one trust, one answered call at a time.

They’re not wrong.

-Brad

Love you all. Hold your people close, your birds closer, and your hope closest of all.

September 11th: From Ground Zero to Sanctuary

April 22 OTY

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May 2: A Day for the Quiet Miracles

May 6: A Day of Historical Triumphs and Sanctuary Tales