This Sunday will be the 15th
anniversary of the 9-11 attack.The term 9-ll is, of course, shorthand for Sept.
11, 2001 when an organized band of terrorists simultaneously hijacked four
airliners and proceeded to crash two of them into each of the twin towers of
the World Trade Center in New York City and another one into the Pentagon in
Northern Virginia. The target of the fourth air plane was believed to be either
the White House or the Capitol, but several passengers—learning of what was
happening from family and friends via their cell phones—took matters into their
own hands, resulting in the plane crashing into a Pennsylvania field, well
short of its planned destination.
People of an older generation could recall
where and what they were doing when each of them first heard that Pearl Harbor
had been attacked and later when President Roosevelt had died.
I—like many other Americans who were alive
on Nov. 22, 1963--remember vividly my own circumstances when the news came that
President Kennedy had been shot, and a few minutes later, that he had died from
an assassin’s bullet.
For those alive on that date 15 years ago
and old enough to know what was going on, 9-11 ranks with those unforgettable events.
It was seared like the mark of a branding iron into individual and collective
memory. As with the Kennedy assassination, television played a big role in
giving context to what we had learned and helping make the impression a more
lasting one.
September 11th fell on a Tuesday
that year. We had the day off, and I was outside doing some chore when Dawn—who
had been watching the Today Show on NBC --came to the door and said that a
plane had crashed into the World Trade Center.
I went inside to see what was going on,
thinking it was a small aircraft. With New York City being a media center, it
hadn’t taken long for several television camera crews to arrive on the scene, and
show the fire roaring out of a gaping hole in the skyscraper.
The on-air commentators at that point were
uncertain of what had happened. An accident certainly seemed a plausible
explanation.
Then suddenly an airliner appears on the
screen and veers directly into the second tower. Any doubt of motive vanished
in that instance. Something deliberate was going on.
As the morning progressed we’d learn of the
attack on Pentagon and of an airliner crash in Pennsylvania. With all of this
coming fast and furious, the obvious question was: Were there other airliners
out there heading towards another target?
Air space over the United States was
cleared. Air passenger planes heading to this country were diverted. As it
would turn out, those four planes were the only ones that had been commandeered
by the terrorists.
But that was only part of the unfolding drama, with
parts of it being learned later on.
The main setting for 9-11—the sequence of
images that would be etched into the memory bank as they were being televised
on the various networks—took place that morning at the World Trade Center.
There are two of them that stood out for me (as
I’m sure they did millions of other Americans who were also watching) were the
firefighters, dressed in their gear, walking towards the twin towers as
hundreds of others were walking in the opposite direction, seeking safety.
Smoke from the fires had darkened the area, adding to the sense of danger that
these men and women were about to face.
The news crews had gotten as close as they
dared to the scene, and I recall that a reporter had stopped one of the
firefighters and asked a couple of questions. I believe the man’s simple answer
was, “It’s our job.”
The other image occurred as Tom Brokow, the
main anchor for NBC, was talking. With
him were the co-hosts of the Today Show, Matt Lauer and Katie Couric. The
televised picture of the two burning towers appeared in the background.
Suddenly, you could see the one tower crumbling towards the ground. I remember
wondering if I’d seen what I thought I’d just seen. Unaware of what had happened, Brokow kept
talking. A couple of seconds later Matt Lauer, having apparently also seen the
tower collapse and not sure of what he’d witnessed, interrupted him and requested
that the tape be rewound. It was. And all doubt disappeared.
Replacing it was the “Oh, my
God!” moment when these news people, I, and all of the others watching realized
that anyone still in the building, along with many of those firefighters we’d
just seen heading into the “jaws of hell” as well as other public safety
officers already there, attempting to rescue the occupants, were likely dead.
It was one thing for the building to be on
fire. The possibility that it would collapse had not entered the realm of
consideration. From that moment forward, the knowledge that the second tower
would likely fall as well became part of the ongoing discussion. And fall it
did.
Eventually, after a few hours of watching
the TV, when nothing of equal significance had occurred and most of what was
being shown and talked about were repetition, I decided to do something normal.
I had intended to mow my lawn, but I knew that I needed some gas. So I drove
over to the nearby station and, lo and behold, was
surprised to see long lines of motorists waiting to fill up the gas tanks of
their various vehicles.
I drove to another gas station in town and
the lines at this station were equally long. Realizing that I would need gas in
my own car in order to drive to work the next day and not knowing if any would
be available due to this panic, I headed over to a country party store a few
miles east of town that had a couple of pumps. My hunch turned out to be a good
one. While the place had more customers than usual, within a few minutes I’d
filled my tank and gotten gas in the container for the lawn mower.
As it turned out, there was gas available
the next day. All of that worry had been a wasted effort. But, of course, no
one knew that at the time.
Being a journalist, the next morning I wrote
a column about this momentous event. I posted it on my web site, submitted it
to The Hastings Banner as a ‘Letter
to the Editor’ for that newspaper’s Thursday edition (I was living in Hastings
at the time), and also published it in the Fowlerville
News & Views for the following Monday’s issue.
On the occasion of this 15th
anniversary, I’ve re-printed it for this issue to accompany this article. See
“Tuesday’s Terrorist Attack.”
Going over that commentary these many years
later, I see that my main intent was to try—through the use of words—to wrap my
head around what had happened by going over the highlights of the day and
juxtaposing them with my impressions and reactions. I also sought to offer my
sympathy to all of those who had lost family or friends during the 9-11 attack.
Interestingly, another ‘Letter to the
Editor’ dealing with the event appeared in the Hastings paper in addition to
mine. The theme of that one was short and to the point: “Let’s get the
bastards!” I’m sure more people shared that sentiment than my attempt at
empathy.
Grief mixed with anger is a potent
combination. Retribution was called for, yet a measured response seemed
prudent. I think that’s why, when writing my column, I remembered Lincoln’s
letter, and felt a need to quote his words. In the midst of war and all of the
furies it unleashes, he still had been able to write in an eloquent manner on a
mother’s loss that went to the heart of our shared humanity.
The furies had come to America that day and,
with them, would come all manner of consequences and repercussions. The
rippling effect of the attack, those repercussions and consequences, have indeed
filled the intervening years and are still impacting us. Likely they will
continue to do so for the foreseeable future.
On this 15th anniversary of 9-11, we once
again remember and mourn all of those innocent victims lost and also the
sacrifices and heroism of the New York firefighters and public safety officers.
“It’s our job,” one of them had explained to
a reporter on that morning. And then without hesitation he joined his fellows
as they walked into the dark cloud (like the mouth of hell) towards the burning
buildings; some of them were going to their death…all of them—the living and
the dead—earning with their deeds and resolve our gratitude and esteem.
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