Remember. Never forget. And we shouldn’t. How could we? But what do we remember? What will we remember?
Those who lost their lives. Yes. Always. Those who responded, went straight into harm’s way to help others? Yes. Always. The fact that we were attacked on our own soil in a way that my generation and younger had never known, or maybe didn’t even think was possible? Absolutely. September 11, 2001, is for us what Pearl Harbor was for my grandparents.
But what else? A friend, Ted Daly, wrote this on September 11, 2013:
“Never forget, and here is what I would like everyone to remember:
Remember the two weeks following the attacks, when we were suddenly so nice to one another? We met and greeted our neighbors, we let drivers in front of us, we offered help to those in need, no matter how large or small the effort required…then, once the third week began, we were right back to the same old same old. Was it so hard, or the effort so unbearable? We could inspire each other to these same acts every day. What kind of world would that be?”
I hope we can remember that. Remember that in the face of tragedy and horror, we helped each other. That we cared about each other. That we didn’t call each other stupid because we didn’t hold the same political beliefs; that we could disagree and be kind; we could disagree and still support one another. I hope we can remember that, because even in the middle of heartfelt and right as rain remembering the lost and the responders, and the horror of that day, it certainly seems like we have forgotten how to help those people, our neighbors and our friends, who don’t agree with us.
NASA posted this picture of the smoke plumes in New York City, visible from space that day.
Station Commander Frank Culbertson, looking down from space, wrote this:
“It’s horrible to see smoke pouring from wounds in your own country from such a fantastic vantage point. The dichotomy of being on a spacecraft dedicated to improving life on the earth and watching life being destroyed by such willful, terrible acts is jolting to the psyche, no matter who you are.”
We may never get to see the earth from that perspective, but we can all hear and feel his words.
Never forget, from our own lives since 9/11. After. On September 11, 2011, I was working in DC, for the Coast Guard. I walked onto Ft. McNair and had lunch on the river bank. And I wrote this:
Sandburg and I sit on the river bank, eating lunch, talking about Chicago and how people are. On the other shore, two helicopters take off, bank over the river and fly directly overhead. These are the same helicopters that carried a different President to St. Michaels when I worked there and got to see him speak.
Then, like now, was after. After we looked at machines flying over cities differently. After flying machines were flown into buildings and the President we saw in St. Michaels got interrupted talking to school children; children that could have been my daughters, but weren’t. Children who wished they were in that school because it would have meant they were far away from New York and didn’t lose their parents.
That day, before, I was in Easton. I didn’t work in Washington, like now, after.
Now, I sit with Sandburg on the river bank of the Anacostia, watching planes landing and taking off at Reagan National. Watching Presidential Helicopters flying overhead.
Sandburg’s Chicago didn’t have planes flying into buildings. It wasn’t something he thought about. But our girls, and their children, will learn it as part of their history classes. It’s part of their story, part of our story, now, after.
Now it’s 17 years after. We say we will never forget. We say we will remember. And we will. There is no doubt. But what will we remember? What will we do about it? And how will it change our lives?
