Number 119

A Reflection on 9/11

On September 11, 2001, I was teaching Kindergarten in Bangor, Maine. It was a brilliant late summer day in that part of the world - a beautiful blue sky with nary a cloud in sight. A colleague came by with a confused message about a plane crash involving the World Trade Center in New York City. I did something unprofessional then, and turned on my radio for more information when I was supposed to be teaching a lesson. I listened with increasing dread as the horrible reality became increasingly clear. It took me about an hour, but all of a sudden, I remembered that my wife was currently in Washington, D.C. for a medical conference. 

That's when I really fell off my game - I think my kiddos had about three hours of recess that day. I tried calling, but couldn't get through to her. Towards the end of the day, the principal came to my room to let me know that Rebecca had gotten a call through to the front office. She was fine, in no danger, and going to her sister's home, who lived in the district. Immediate feeling of relief for me and mine, contrasted against the unfolding tragedy our nation was experiencing. I held my two young daughters extra tight that evening.

Rebecca eventually made it home from D.C., although her travel experience could have provided the script for the sequel to Planes, Trains, & Automobiles. Her version might be titled "Trains, Busses, & Begged Rides." In the end, I packed up the girls and drove to the Maine/New Hampshire border to pick her up for the last leg home. But our little family was intact again. Her travel issues were trivial when compared to the pain and agony suffered by so many families, so needlessly, in the blink of an eye.

And then, nineteen years passed by...

The other day was the anniversary of the attacks, and as often happens on such occasions, I found myself reflecting back. My thoughts made me sad. And while that, in itself, is an appropriate reaction; the specific reasons for my sadness were not for obvious reasons. In fact, my thoughts on the attacks themselves might be considered rather contrary. To wit: It could have been so much worse. The total number of passengers on all four planes was extraordinarily low considering how many people could have been aboard. So too, there could have been so many more people in the two towers. And more than sadness, I am in awe of the heroism demonstrated by first responders who ran into the buildings, intent on saving as many people as they could. So too, the bravery of the ordinary citizens who refused to let United 93 be the fourth bullet in a gun inspires a fist clenching "fuck yeah!" as much as it does sadness at their fate. Please don't misunderstand - I believe the attacks were a national tragedy, and sadness is an all together appropriate response. It's just not the only one.

No, my sadness came as a result of contemplating how fractured our country has become since then. The overwhelming shock and horror we felt after we were attacked served to unify the entire nation. I don't think that's terribly surprising, really. Moments of tragedy often serve to bring people together. And it's not shocking that it didn't last. That's human nature, too. By 2003 and the start of the war in Iraq, there were already great disagreements among us regarding how our country was responding to the terrorist attacks of 9/11. I remember my own strong feelings about what we should be doing, as well as my disgust at the folks who disagreed with me. But we were still united in our hope that we would get it right, in terms of how our nation was going to respond.

But over the years, as the wise philosopher once noted, shit happened; and we began to fragment and pull apart as a nation. Our ability to communicate with others that held differing opinions began to atrophy. The ability to compromise began to be seen as a weakness rather than a strength. As a culture, we began to consume a false notion that "reality" should be confrontational and argumentative. That extremes of behavior were normal and worthy of celebration and praise. As a result, many undeserving people became celebrities over night. We became enraptured by the pablum and idiocy spouted by these morons. Worse, we began to think their simpleminded drivel was worthy of consideration. Lost in this ascendency of a reality based celebrity culture was the ability to discern good ideas from bad ones. At the same time, the manipulators and liars, who twisted reality to suit their purpose, began their dirty work while we were distracted by the Kardashians and their ilk. We lost the ability to tell truth from fiction, lie from fact, and a good idea from a bad one. We lost our common sense of decency. We forgot how to treat one another with simple respect. 

In 2016 we really stepped in it, and elected a president who exemplified every bad trait that, for our sins, we had somehow made worthy of praise. That he has continued to exploit our nation's misguided definition of praiseworthy behavior should come as no shock. The fact that he has made things worse by a factor of ten is an idea almost too scary to contemplate.

As a result, we are as divided as a nation to a degree not seen since our Civil War in the 1860s. I shudder to think that it will take another armed conflict to solve our current situation. And so I am sad.