Sunday, September 11, 2011

in Remembrance


I actually wasn't planning on writing anything about this today. But last night, while at a cookout with my new teacher, the topic came up that the next day was the tenth anniversary of 9/11. I noticed there had been an article in the paper about it earlier that day, but I didn't think people, themselves, would make too big of a fuss.

The conversation that followed, not only surprised me, but humbled me as well. As an American, recalling the events of 9/11 obviously carries a different weight than to others, but I had no idea just how affected - on a personal level - the rest of the world also felt by what occurred that day. 

Having traveled internationally quite a bit, I've encountered my fair share of anti-American sentiments. So subconsciously I always assumed that, as no one really liked the US anyway, no one gave much thought to it, especially not 10 years later. On any level, an extremely naive thought. 

Last night I sat around a table with 5 Germans who all solemnly and with the utmost sincerity recalled exactly where they were and their reactions when when they first heard about the attacks. The detail with which they each recounted this day 10 years ago was an enormous testament to just how affected the whole world had been. "I cried, I actually called my father and cried" a grown man admitted to me. 

9/11 remains one of those events in history that just seems impossible to truly wrap my mind around. Having happened in my life time, I always think I understand it. But every now and then I see something, hear something or think of something that makes me realize I have only just scraped the surface of understanding the depth and magnitude, the reach and weight, the affect it had on individuals, families, countries and the world. 

Last year, one of my ETA friends in Germany prepared a lesson for her classes on the 9th anniversary. She collected stories and personal accounts from all her friends. This was the first time I had ever written about 9/11. Really gathered my thoughts and focused them into one account. Every word I wrote one year ago still rings true today as I continue to learn and to understand more and more of what the events of 9/11 truly mean.

*****

I was 14 when it happened. I remember being in English - my first class of the day - when the principle came to our door and whispered something to the teacher. Our teacher seemed very concerned, but when she told us "a plane has crashed into the pentagon, and the World Trade Center is on fire" Honestly, I don't even think I knew what the World Trade Center was - maybe just that that it was in NYC. I didn't see what all the panic was for. A plane crash and a fire, it just sounded like a tragic accident. But still, there was something unsettling in our teacher's reaction to the news. It wouldn't be till the first break that I heard more details. Everyone was talking about it in the hall, mostly in hushed voices and worried tones: "I heard there was another plane that crashed in New York" "Someone said it is a terrorist attack" "There is a plane inside the World Trade Center". None of it really made much sense. I still couldn't understand what a plane crash in D.C., a fire in New York and terrorists all had to do with the same thing. 
 
In my 2nd period was band. We didn't even take our instruments out, we just watched the news. For almost 2 hours we sat in silence, 50 faces staring at the TV as the pieces of the story started to fit together. I don't even think we bothered to turn the lights on. I understood now. These weren't two mutually exclusive tragic accidents. A plane did not simply crash. It had been crashed into the pentagon, into the World Trade Center on purpose. As my brain tried to process the information, I could not tear my eyes away from the tv. I'm not sure anymore if I realized at the time those black dots falling away from the building were people. Actual people. I watched as another plane hit the second tower. I watched as one tower fell. Then the other.
 
As a 14 year old, I was old enough to understand the horror that I was watching, but too young, I think, to really comprehend the magnitude of the situation. I remember seeing people acting scared. I didn't understand why they were scared. Sad, of course. Shocked, we all were. But scared? It wasn't like Watkinsville, Georgia would be the next target for a terrorist attack. I didn't understand that they weren't scared for themselves, but for our country. For the future. For people all over the world who had to live with these kinds of attacks every day. 
 
I don't think I've ever experienced such a sense of American camaraderie as in the weeks and months that followed the attacks. Liberal, conservative, northern, southern, black, white, east coast, west coast - none of that seemed to matter right after 9/11. For that time were were all, purely and simply, American. 
 
Now, almost 9 years later, I am able to see more clearly just how little I grasped of everything at the time. While I couldn't really say how much my life was changed by the events of 9/11, I understand more fully every day the effect it had on our country and its people as a whole. However horrific it might have been, though, I do not think we should look at 9/11 as a reason to hate or to seek revenge. We should look at 9/11 as a reason to come together and to help one another.
(written 9/11/10)

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