9/11 Then and Now

I never really believed it when people used to say that they knew exactly where they were and what they were doing when they heard that President Kennedy was shot. I have a pretty good memory, but when that was still the last major national single event tragedy that captivated literally everyone, it had been nearly 40 years since it happened and I didn't buy it. 

I wasn't alive then to know for myself. While it’s only been 10 years since 9/11, I’m now a believer. Tragedy sears itself into our memories better than anything else.  In terms of loss of life, the world has had far greater tragedies since then (Japan, Haiti, and Indonesia just to name a few), perspective tells us thousands more die around the world every day from hunger, disease and choice, and we’re still fighting the wars that that day started. However, there’s something about 9/11 that most of us can’t forget.

I remember the weather that day, where I was when I first heard, the radio show I was listening at the time, to the type of delivery I made for the construction company I worked for at the time, the neighborhood I went to for that delivery, what the airport air space looked like as I drove by, the seat I sat in at my office staring at the television for hours, the gas station I waited an hour in line to go through with my ride to work, the pure shock that permeated my body the entire day, and I cried. 

I also remember that for a few days at least, we were one country again.  Political affiliation didn’t matter, religious affiliation didn’t matter, race didn’t matter, income didn’t matter, and lifestyle didn’t matter.  What mattered was that we were Americans, we had been stung to core, and we wanted to work together to take care of our brothers and sisters, and bring justice to our enemies.  We were all working together, and I cried.

A week later, I was at the first baseball game post-9/11 in Busch Stadium where the flag was displayed proudly, and the National Anthem was never sung more loudly, and the late Jack Buck read his poem, in large part about working together and the greatness of America.  In fact, I just watched it again, and again I cried.

Months later I saw friends go off to fight my enemy so I wouldn’t have to.  I also watched the documentary from the French brothers who happened to be following a firefighter that fateful day.  The documentary where we see people jumping 1,000 feet to their deaths, where heroes died saving people they’d never met, and I cried.

In the past 10 years the crying has long ended (well, until the next time I watch Jack Buck) as time has healed the wounds for most of us not directly impacted with a lost loved one.  I’ve watched as division has again taken center stage.  Working together (politically, religiously, racially, etc…) isn’t even on the radar screen for most of us, and all too often that includes me.  This country went from non-existent to the most powerful country on the planet in a flash.  While it wasn’t always true, much of that was because we worked together as Americans.  We had freedom to do what we wanted, but we knew we worked best together rather than on our own. 

Most of us want to leave a better place for our children and grandchildren to grow than we were privileged to grow up in, and that’s still possible.  Together, we can do almost anything, divided we will fall.  For a short time, 9/11 brought us back to that state of mind.  We’re never all going to agree on everything, but if we can at least agree that America is the best place in the world to live in, we can remember what got us here... and make sure we don’t lose it.