Josh and Korey

This really spoke to me today:

They say it’s one of those days that you always remember. That you will never forget where you were when you got the news. I think for those of us on the West Coast, a lot of our stories are similar. It was early in the morning, so most of us were getting ready for our days. I was a senior in high school, preparing for first period AP English (one of my favorite classes, ever). We were reading Hamlet at the time. I had come downstairs for breakfast and my mom had the tv on. She was staring at it. I remember thinking it was odd that she would be watching something like Die Hard in the morning, and not Little House on the Prairie or the news. I asked her, “why are you watching this movie?” she said “it’s not a movie. It’s the news.” I stopped, looking more closely now. The clip they were playing was the first plane hitting tower 2, and smoke billowing from it. I watching until I left for school, and then we watched it in probably every class.

I remember feeling numb, like it wasn’t really happening. I’m sure we all did. While we let the meaning sink in, we all tried to wrap our minds around the significance of an attack on American soil. None of us had experienced this. While not a war, certainly an act of war, and the last war on American soil was, if you recall, the Civil War. We’ve all felt safe here. There might be a war occurring in another country, but not here. And now we were all vulnerable. Cities were shutting down tourist attractions, or enforcing blackouts, and airports were grinding to a halt, canceling flights and increasing security measures. People were scared, angry, and lost. We banded together, we all had American flags flying from our homes and cars, and the feeling was fantastic. We were one Nation, truly, and we were on the same team. It’s the only time, sadly, I’ve felt that in my life.

The international community had such a tremendous response. I remember looking through slideshows of photos on the internet of mourners gathering for candlelight vigils in countries all over the world. The things they had to say about this nation were beautiful. I don’t think that’s something we are accustomed to as Americans. It saddens me to think that we are all mushed into this category of materialistic, money-hungry people who care more for possessions than people. Life experiences in this country have taught me that it is far from the truth. It also saddens me to think that political decisions, once made on our behalf, are the reason that something like 9/11 happens. I don’t mean to argue a point here, other than to say that something really angered Al-Qaeda and sent them into the precise planning of these attacks. The effort was not expended purely because they didn’t agree with our values as a nation. I realize that political groups will disagree, but we are just people, trying to live our lives. The WTC were full of secretaries, daycare personnel (and children), accountants, and bankers. No one in there was evil. No one in there personally made a decision that altered the lives of anyone in Al-Qaeda. Looking back now, I wonder if that was worth it to them. If the attack had the outcome they desired. I like to think it didn’t. I like to think that Osama bin Laden was angry if and when he watched the news coverage of the international response.

In 2009, when I visited New York City, Niki tried to take me to see the footprint of the buildings. Since I’d never been, I’d never seen them as part of the skyline (other than on tv and in the movies) and I felt like I just couldn’t grasp from all of that tv coverage how large they had been. Of course they were constructing the monuments and I couldn’t see much of anything. Even taking the subway to that exit and seeing the signs for the WTC was eerie. To see life moving around this construction site, and gaping wound in the earth, in the city, and in the consciousness of everyone who moves around it daily really spoke to me. I felt it said something profound about New Yorkers, and Americans in general. As I had said in my posts about Josh’s accident, the capacity of humans to heal is incredible to me. We went to the 9/11 memorial, and I thought I would share some photos.

Yes, I am the bag lady in this picture. This display case held things that were found in the rubble, some of it surprisingly intact. One item was an ATM receipt, time-stamped moments before the first plane hit. Its owner did not survive.

Tiles painted in memory of those lost.

I saved my favorite for last, because this makes me cry every time I think of it. If you are familiar with the folklore of paper cranes, it is said that if you make 1,000 of them, you'll be granted any wish you seek. It's almost known as a metaphor for wishing for the impossible, knowing how long it would take to fold so many of them. Schoolchildren in Japan folder 1,000 paper cranes and sent them with their condolences. Their wish? World peace. Too see that many cranes (they were hung down the stairwell as you walk downstairs) was staggering. This is truly a labor of love.

Each year, as I look back on 9/11/01, I think about what a transformative day it was in so many lives. I’m grateful that it didn’t affect me more personally, more closely…and yet I feel that it is truly something that “happened to” all American people. It was a macabre way to start my senior year of high school, and I won’t say that I feel the tone of that year wasn’t set on that day. It was like a harsh wake-up call to the realities of life that one doesn’t typically have in that idyllic year. It took some of the shine off of the fun and responsibility-free lives we all thought we’d have in 2001-2002. Two alumni of my high school died in the attacks, if you can believe it. One was a flight attendant on one of the two that crashed in NYC and the other was on flight 93 as a passenger. It touched us all in some way. I think the US felt like a more intimate, close-knit community after the attack. It was comforting and beautiful for a time. I wish it didn’t take tragedy to bring it about, but it happened all the same. We banded together and we healed ourselves. I can still remember the anger I felt, the indignation and lust for revenge. Looking back, I don’t see anything we’ve done as the sort of revenge I wanted 10 years ago, and I’m okay with that. I don’t think that more violence would have necessarily fixed anything. I also wonder if it takes more than 1,000 paper cranes for world peace…is it ever possible?

In the comments: tell me–where were you on 9.11.01?

It never fails to amaze me that, given the simplicity of the weather in Southern California, no one can manage to predict it. Saturday morning I woke up to the sound of rain, then thunder in the distance. By mid-morning the thunder was louder and then it started to POUR. I ran outside with Koal and we found large pieces of hail hammering away at the metal patio cover.

Of course all of our wonderful furniture was moved out from under the cover while Josh uses power tools under there…so it all got wet.

So cool. I love rain, and yes, it’s probably because it happens so rarely. It just sounds so great, and smells so great, and is really exciting for me. Laugh if you want. 🙂