Wishful Thinking

I spent most of my day either sleeping or watching movies and tv shows.  I also spent a good chunk of it sleeping in the middle of the day.  At the very end of it I was conned into going out and shooting pool for 2 hours, give or take.  I spent very little of it reflecting on the events of 10 years ago.

There have been countless tv specials, columns, photo essays and memorials today, as there should be.  It all kind of misses the point though doesn’t it?  If you are an honest, good hearted person are you ever really going to forget?  Doall these event really do anything beyond remind us of the pain that we endured?

The answer, like the attacks themselves, is not simple.  We have a duty to honor those that died on September 11th, 2011; there is no doubt of that.  We also have a duty to our family, our friends and ourselves.

I, like everyone old enough to remember it, remember exactly where I was that day.  In fact, that’s the first thing I think about when anyone brings up 9/11.  I was in Honors English with Mrs. Weidner when another teacher burst in the door and said in a deeply disturbed voice, “terrorists have attacked the twin towers.”  I didn’t even give the teacher a chance to say yes or no, I just ran to the back of the classroom, pulled out the TV and turned it on.

We were glued to the TV in ways that we never knew.  Horrified, we sat and wondered what was going to happen.  How were they going to fix this?  No one had any answers.  The reporters had nothing to offer us other than what they could see with their eyes.  No one from the police deaprtment, the mayors office or even Washington D.C. was on the phone with them telling them to assure the public because they were taking care of it.  Nothing.

The first tower falls.  I think the first tower really didn’t get to us that much.  For some reason seeing the second tower still standing was like a beacon of hope, a sign that they can do their worst but we’ll continue to fight back.  Finally, Mrs. Weidner was able to collect herself, and realized that we needed to move on to the next class.  There were only two of us left down there, and she wrote us hall passes and moved us along.

There were too many emotions running through us at that time to distinguish any 1 feeling from another.  I didn’t run up the stairs as I usually did in the normal rush to get to class on time.  I slowly climbed all 5 flights of stairs, not really sure what to make of what was going on.  I was on my way to AP Government with Mr. Reid, and I really wasn’t ready for what was coming.

Mr. Reid’s classroom had double doors with floor to ceiling windows.  He had to keep most of it covered up so that students passing along wouldn’t disturb the class, but it was a nice change from the normal.  As I got up there I could tell that the entire class was busy watching the news and not attempting any classwork.  This was a relief at first; I wasn’t going to be put in the dark for 45 minutes on what was going on.  Though I’ve come to loathe my timing.

As I opened the door I immediately turned to the TV.  I hadn’t even begun to close the door behind me as I watched the second tower crumble.  I don’t really remember much from the rest of that class - I wish did.  Instead, that image has been burned into my retina and I can’t forget it, even if I wanted to.

After that class I went to Pre-Calculus with Mr. Newhardt.  Unlike my other teachers he was determined to keep us calm by focusing on classwork.  That or he didn’t want to deal with it himself; I like to think he was stronger than the latter.  Though, it didn’t matter that much as my mother showed up to the school and took us home halfway through the class.

That morning my father was on a flight to Greenville, SC.  My uncle worked right around the WTC and one of my mother’s cousins was working in the Pentagon.  Predictably, we weren’t able to get ahold of any of them at first.  My father was first to check in, my uncle managed to catch the last ferry out of Manhattan and then got in touch with us, but my mother’s cousin took longer.  Though they all made it, it was still an incredibly stressful event.  We were lucky unlike so many.

The days following were strange.  Most teachers tried to focus our attention on school work, but some were so shaken they couldn’t help but let us talk endlessly about it.  Seniors were talking about enlisting between classes.  Lunches were mum.  If nothing else, having something that touched us all at least gave us reason to ignore our petty differences for a moment.

A few days later I, along with some classmates, were asked to go to a local TV station for an interview before President Bush addressed the nation.  I don’t remember much about the interview, I was only asked one question, “What kind of emotions are students feeling?”  In my own confusion I found it a difficult question to answer, but I still think I was right on the spot, “There’s a lot of anger, a lot of sorrow, but most of all we don’t know what to feel.”

That very weekend following we went to a drag race at Elizabethtown, NJ.  The entire day was dedicated to the cause of relief efforts in New York.  I was still in such shock I couldn’t enjoy any of it.  I remember at one point being so upset I just ran out the gates and was walking mindlessly amongst the parking area.  My father finally found me and brought me back in.  He could see I was upset, and perhaps inconsolable, but that didn’t stop him from trying.  His words could not relieve me, but they did give me a sense of purpose which I carry with me to this day, “do not let the terrorists win.”

Not long after my uncle got married, the same uncle who barely managed to escape Manhattan on 9/11.  After the wedding he had a pre-reception on a boat he chartered in the Hudson.  We weren’t even sure if the boat was going to be a go since the authorities had shut down all non-essential water traffic in the area, but in the end we were allowed to go.

Sitting on that boat all I could do was stare at the smoke rising from the towers.  The lights, the sound of generators the endless line of emergency vehicles, these are all things that I simultaneously wish I had never seen and am eternally grateful that I did.  

Midway through October I had tickets to go see the Miami Dolphins play the New York Jets.  I was a huge Dolphins fan, and going to the Dolphins-Jets game at the Meadowlands was one of the most anticipated events of my year.  As we drove to the stadium you could see New York, and most noticeably, you could see the towers not there.

For years I had been a die-hard Dolphins fan.  I got worked up about it when they lost, I felt near genuine hate for our opponents, especially the Jets.  That they though, I had no interest in being angry anymore, not over sports.  As I sat there and tried to enjoy the game all I could think about was Ground Zero, the Pentagon and Shanksville, PA.

Through the game, and definitely after the Dolphins’ inevitable loss, I witnessed the same dickishness that I had seen in all the years past.  How many times I had gong to that game and it never bothered me, it was just how a sporting event was.  This time though I was disgusted with how we treat each other - even in the wake of the worst attack on the United States these people were still so consumed in something as irrelevant as football.  That was the last time that I ever went to Dolphins-Jets game.

It was only a week before the game that we invaded Afghanistan - and so began the true terror on our nation.  The attacks emboldened us at first, sorrow and anger gave us the courage to turn to arms and fight that which had brought us so much death.  But it didn’t take long for us to fear.  Fear of war, fear of going anywhere abroad, fear of going to famous attractions or even the fear of living near a major city.  Would this turn into a volley of terrorist attacks and war?  Was our destiny to live in a state of violence?

Fortunately no.  But that fear hit us all.  I remember being opposed to the German Club being allowed to go to Germany as part of an exchange program for fear that they would be vulnerable to attack while over there.  I even wrote a letter to the school board and had it read at the meeting when they voted on it.  It is true, I definitely let the fear get to me.

It wasn’t until my sophomore year in college that I finally came to deal with that fear in a productive way.  The school Army ROTC office had sent me a letter asking me to join.  My entire life I had no desire to join the military, and purely out of fear of death.  When I got that letter I spent a good time thinking about it and what it really meant to me.  The Army needed people who could think a little differently, people who had been educated, not just those down on their luck with few options.  I was going to do this.

At first I had a free pass.  I was able to try for a semester before having to formally commit.  That time came and went quickly.  In that time they showed me parts of myself I never knew existed, that I could face danger and tackle my fear.  After that semester I signed my commitment forms and it was done; I was in.

I wish I could say that I went on to serve my country overseas along side my comrades.  Unfortunately medical troubles resulted in my eventual discharge.  Many say I was lucky, that’s it better that I never went.  Maybe it is, but I can’t help but feel like I should have been there with the 972 MPs.  It’s a feeling that you can’t explain to anyone.  You just have to smile and say, “yeah, I guess you’re right,” and move on knowing that it isn’t true.

Since then, like so many American’s I have struggled with the job market, crushing debt and a lack of faith in our elected officials.  Easy is not a word I would use to describe the last ten years.  Not to say it has all been bad.  I’ve traveled the country, met some amazing people, done amazing things and best of all I have met a girl here in Chicago that I love very much.

I’m making progress, but last night was hard for me.  Watching a special on A&E about a photographer who was trying to reconnect with people from Ground Zero she took photos of was excruciating.  It stirred all the wrong emotions in me and left me with nothing to hold onto.  It reminded me how sad and scared I was, but did not give me any of the unity that we as a nation experienced right after the towers fell.

The documentaries and iPad apps are beautiful and a great tribute to those that have been lost, but their failing is not being able to give us hope.  Think of it like this:  there’s an awful lot of music out there today that evokes feelings of sadness and dispair.  Music has always been a way to express feelings, and sorrow is one of those.  The difference is, where a typical mainstream emo song will make you feel like slitting your wrist after hearing it, something like, a Weezer song, will leave you with an odd smile on your face at the end because you know it will be alright.

To be fair, all of these tributes don’t have much to work with when it comes to expressing hope.  Our leaders in Washington are rubbish, our economy is worse than anyone is willing to admit and all signs point to it getting worse.  These tributes fail because we are failing ourselves, our country and everyone that gave their lives on 9/11.  All because too many people have forgotten.

As I stated at the beginning, if you are an honest, good hearted person you will never forget; you do not need banners, and TV specials to remind you.  Those things will only bring you back to the pain.  Which, isn’t necessarily a bad thing.  But, if you are greedy and uncaring of anything but what is best for you and not for this country these specials will give you a moment of pause, perhaps it will make you tear up a little even.  After that though, you will go back to finding loopholes to avoid paying taxes and benefits to full-time employees, you will continue to fight against gay rights and fair medical care to all, you will continue to be the people that have brought this nation to its knees.

Between the victims of 9/11 and the casualties in Iraq and Afghanistan there are nearly 10,000 people we owe it to be better as a nation.  I am not perfect, not by a long shot, but I try to be a good person, to treat people fairly and with respect.  That’s all I’m asking, is it really that much to ask of people.  When someone loses a job because a company is trying to make more money, not even because they are losing money mind you, it is a crime against humanity.  The same goes when Congress blocks legislation to help the heroes at Ground Zero battle the diseases they now suffer as a result.  ”Why?” is the only thing I can think when I hear of such things.

I probably won’t sleep tonight, not because of thinking about 9/11, that is something that I’ve learned to live with, but rather because of how disgusted I am with our nation and the number of people who live on being hateful and selfish.  And that is exactly why we have failed them.