Sunday, September 11, 2011

9/11, 9/12... What's the Difference?


I never met Tom.
And I never will.
Tom and I worked together.
Sorta.
We worked in the same building.
A big building.
But we never met.
As far as I know.
Tom never met his son either.
The boy was born in the spring of 2002.
Six months after September 11, 2001.
The day that Tom died.
Tom was a passenger on one of the planes that struck the World Trade Center.
He was headed home.
To be with his pregnant wife.
He never made it.
As you might imagine, I heard nothing but good things about Tom after that tragic day.
And apparently it was all true.
Tom was just a good guy.
Living the dream.
Making plans to be a dad.
For the first time.
Unfortunately he was in the wrong place.
At the very wrong time.
Sadly, Tom’s story is far from unique.
The list of people who were in the wrong place.
At the wrong time.
Runs long.
Very long.
2,977 long.
That’s the number of people who lost their life in the attack.
Ten years ago.
Today.
It’s still hard to believe.
Impossible to believe that what we all watched that morning was real.
And not some terrible made-for-TV movie.
I went to bed on September 10, 2011 with a disturbing image in my head.
The image of Denver Broncos Wide Receiver Ed McCaffrey breaking his leg on Monday Night Football.
Tuesday morning I didn’t even know a game had been played.
I woke up to a phone call that day.
I was told to put on the television.
When I asked what channel.

I was told, “it doesn’t matter”.
None of us saw the first plane hit the North Tower at 8:46 that morning.
But 17 minutes later we all saw the second plane hit the South Tower.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Even if we didn’t believe it.
It was real.
From that point on, it was impossible to turn off the television.
No matter what channel.
I will never forget watching the towers fall to the ground.
Like somebody had lit the game of Jenga on fire.
Like you, I have seen the horrifying images dozens of dozens.
Of dozens.
Of times.
And each time, I watch with my mouth wide open.
Even ten years later.
Exactly ten years later.
It’s still impossible to believe.
Impossible to comprehend.
To think that there were real people in those buildings.
It’s more than the human heart can handle.
When you think that there were brothers and sisters.
Fathers and mothers.
Aunts and Uncles.
Real people.
Losing their lives in front of our eyes.
It is a tragedy beyond words.
Exactly ten years later, many of us have moved on.
Maybe most of us have moved on.
Especially the lucky ones who didn’t lose anyone on that day.
Of course 9/11 is a day that this country will never forget.
But it is a day that many in this country will never truly remember.
For some, the only lasting memory is a longer wait at airport security.
Not being able to carry on toiletries more than 3.4 ounces can be such an inconvenience. 
Or God forbid your bag needs to get checked before you enter a stadium.
For so many, 9/11 is now just a day filed on the annual calendar.
A sad day?
Absolutely.
A tragic day?
No doubt.
A life changing day?
Not so sure.
Just a day.
You could certainly make a strong case that the war that ensued has affected many more people than those affected by the events on September 11, 2001.
In fact, since 9/11 more than twice as many U.S. Service Personnel have been killed in Iraq and Afghanistan than in the original attack on our soil.
6,239.
And counting.
Gone.
And many forgotten.
Of course there was something extra special about 9/11 this year.
It was the 10th anniversary.
And in this country, we love big round numbers.
But for the families that were changed forever ten years ago today.
Like Tom’s family.
There’s really not much of a difference between 9/11.
And 9/12.



1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Being a high schooler in NY on September 11, 2011, I think it is impossible not to be changed and shaped by the event. Loving my country more, feeling the pride of being an American, and being grateful that although I know so many who lost parents, siblings, and grandparents, my family was spared. It should remind us all to be thankful for the little things.