9/11

I've never been one to get emotional about September 11th.  I understand how tragic it was and I've seen how strongly it impacted the world in which I live, but the anniversary usually just irritates me, because now it's all about politics, and both sides use it to bolster their image while cutting down the other side.  But for some reason, this year, I feel emotional about it, so I thought I'd write about it.

I was only 16 years old when the towers fell.  I had just started my junior year of high school and terrorist attacks were the last thing on my mind.  All I was thinking on September 11th, 2001 was that I had an appointment to get my belly button pierced after school, and that my first serious boyfriend, Russ, had broken up with me not long before.  When I got to school that day, all I knew was that a plane had crashed into one of the WTO towers.  I remember thinking it was an accident, that something had gone wrong with the plane or that the pilot had gotten sick or something--I had no clue then what it actually was.  There was a bomb threat that day at my school and I remember sitting in the gym with everybody else, not knowing what was going on, either at our school or in NYC.  Maybe it's because I was thousands of miles away, but I didn't feel scared or worried, just . . . confused.  That day after school, I watched CNN in the waiting room of Catch N Rayz while the piercer prepped the room for my appointment.

I don't know why it's sinking in this year.  I think that as I get older I realize, more and more, how much of an impact that day had on the world.  It truly amazes me.  It amazes me because no one--at least no one in America--woke up that morning thinking, today will be the day the world changes.  No one was thinking, after today, nothing will be the same.  The terrorists themselves probably hardly thought that, especially the ones actually involved in the hijacking.

But really, that day changed the way every American viewed the world.  It really did.  Back then I hardly knew anything about the world outside of high school and homework and Kingman, but now . . . now I see how mind blowing it all really was.

The other night when I was working out, the TV in the fitness room was on NatGeo and they were showing a documentary about 9-11.  It talked about the small details, though--interviews with the airport workers who checked in the terrorists, details about how the attack was planned, which men were on which flight.  None of it was stuff I knew before, but for whatever reason, I found myself bawling.  It's just so . . . I don't know.  I can't even begin to describe it.  The magnitude of it is just incredible.  It's incredible to hear the whole story from all perspectives, to know what happened at all ends.  Hearing those stories made it so much more real to me--that these were all real people who lived these moments that changed the world and how we view it forever.

None of those people knew.  The airport workers had no idea who they were letting through security and onto the planes.  None of the pilots woke up that morning with any clue that they'd be ambushed in their cockpits.  None of the passengers got on those planes thinking that they wouldn't land where they were supposed to; none of them ever imagined that they would be hijacked and killed.

And it's amazing from the terrorist's point of view too.  Most of the men who actually carried this out, who actually went through all the airport security and carried out the hijackings and crashed the planes, were young.  Not much older than the soldiers, sailors, airmen, and marines we've sent to war.  And it's kind of amazing how well thought out and well executed their plan was--that they could accomplish that is impressive, in a sick and twisted sort of way.  The thing is, I'm sure they were scared too . . . walking through the airports and boarding the planes knowing what they were about to do, knowing that they were going to die.

I can't imagine being on either side that day.  And it's incredible to me how little say we actually had in it--once those planes were in the air, once they were hijacked, once the terrorist pilots took over, there was nothing we could have done.

I can't say that I agree with how the United States responded to the attacks.  Generally speaking, I don't agree with war at all.  I think the people who did this deserved to be punished, and punished harshly, without question.  There is no doubt that Al-Queda is an enemy of this country and that the people who lost their lives that day deserve justice.  But I also feel like we answered death with death--we were angry with them for killing 3000 innocent Americans so we sent thousands more innocent Americans to die for it.  And now we've killed thousands of innocent Afghani civilians too.  It's just too much death all around.  It's a battle that ultimately, no one wins.

My heart breaks for the people who were on the planes that day, and who were in the towers that day.  They went to work and the airport thinking their life would be the same at the end of the day as it was at the beginning, and in the middle, everything changed.  Not one single person who died that day deserved that fate.  I can't imagine the fear and the panic they must have felt.  My heart breaks for the families of the pilots and passengers, for the mothers and fathers and husbands and wives and siblings and friends who got I love you and I'm about to die phone calls from their loved ones.  My heart breaks for the families of people who had business in the towers, who didn't know the fates of their loved ones, who waited days for news while rescue workers combed through the rubble at Ground Zero.  I don't think I will ever experience something that devastating in my life.

I do know that I will never be as brave as any of those people.  I wil never be as courageous as the passengers of Flight 93, who fought back.  I will never be as brave as the passengers on the other flights who realized and accepted their fate and calmly called their families to tell them goodbye.  I will never be as brave as the people in the towers who stayed behind to help their friends and colleagues.  I will never be as selfless and giving and strong as the fire fighters and rescue workers and volunteers who pulled people and bodies out of the wreckage.  To all of those people, I give my admiration and my gratitude.

I think the best thing any of us can do now, after all of this, is just put good out in the world.   I think so many of us get comfortable and complacent and start taking good things for granted.    But a big part of what September 11th taught us is that bad things can happen out of nowhere and when you least expect it, and that the bad can be tremendous and seem bigger and stronger than the good.  So do good deeds, treat each other with kindness and respect and tolerance, and hold on to whatever goodness you have in your life.  Just do whatever you can, every single day, to make the world a better place.  It's a cliche as hell thing to say, but it's true.  It's always true and it's always important, but it's expecially true and important today.

(And just so no one thinks I forgot or anything, I am grateful for the men and women in our military who have fought or are fighting the war that stemmed from 9-11.  My heart, thoughts, and prayers go out to them and their families.  But I wanted this post to focus on the day itself, not necessarily what came after).