8 Years, And Still Remebered Like A Clear Day

Image still gives me chills.
(hotlibrarytech.files.wordpress.com)

I write this as the sky lets out slow tears, probably in honor of the horrific events that happened 8 years ago today. I remember it like it was 3 minutes ago. I was a sophomore at Hudson High. It was a very warm Tuesday, where I spent my first class (Biology) outside doing water quality experiments on the Assabet River, which if you are from the area, it doesn't take a pH test to tell you not to swim there. I was basking in the sunlight of the day, unaware of the events that had recently transpired in New York City towards the end of 1st block class time. My next class was World Literature, where we were dissecting the book "Things Fall Apart", which at least by title is eerie foreshadowing in retrospect. As my mind was wandering in the classroom to figure out a way to get rid of this recently-acquired river stench, Ms. Murray, who would end up being a future teacher of mine, stormed into the classroom (which was actually hers) and looked for a radio that she had. She alerted the class that a plane crashed into one of the World Trade towers. For some reason, I didn't take the news too seriously. Maybe it was because I was thinking about having another class outside. Maybe it was me thinking about the river stench. Or maybe it was me thinking of that B-25 that crashed accidentally into the Empire State Building in the mid-40's. Either way, I didn't see the crash as much more than an accident. However it was peculiar that the pilot would have any visibility problems on a superb day like that day. We continued to dissect the classic work of Chinua Achebe when about a half-hour later, Ms. Murray ran back in the classroom again, screaming that another plane crashed into the second tower. That's when the switch flipped for me. This was too coincidental to be a complete accident. My mind went from river odor to what the scene looked like in New York. When I heard that the library staff rolled out televisions, I knew this event had some severity. I was afraid of encountering a scene that was unimaginable and incomparable to anything I have witnessed in my almost 16 years of life. And when I went to the library after 2nd block, I unfortunately was right.

Just at a loss for words.
(freethoughts.org)

I caught the images on a television in the library just before entering, and with just pure shock, I froze, almost not even entering the room. The people jumping out of the towers, the long trail of smoke. And now the Pentagon's hit? Now I realized this was waaaaaaaaaaaay more than an accident. This was planned for months, maybe even years, and me and the rest of my student peers and teachers were witnessing the gruesome finished product live. I couldn't imagine being in NYC like some of my future college buddies, witnessing all of this Doomsday-like scenery outside of their classroom windows, or having to be packed in a ferry to avoid the imminent danger and destruction that was to occur on their stomping grounds as a result of the weakening structure of the towers and the buildings surrounding it. Even the firefighters and paramedics looked baffled, not knowing what was to come next. And that feeling was contagious across the nation. All of a sudden, random students were bantering about random reports throughout the day. A bomb in J.F.K. Library? A plane down in a Pennsylvanian field? An explosion at Golden Gate? It was just pure anarchy with rumor and fact colliding. I remember getting off the bus that day and walking back with the weirdest sense of vulnerability ever. It was the 1st and only time in my life I have ever felt this indescribable feeling. Were the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon the beginning of something massive that was about to happen? Should I walk or run home? I kept constantly thinking of the mini-movie that introduces the game, "Command and Conquer: Red Alert 2" where the Soviets go crazy and launch a full-scale invasion on the U.S. that made D-Day look like an 8th grade dance. After a whole night of watching the news and seeing towers go down and watching a storm of metal and plaster engulf New York City, I knew that I lost a part of me that wouldn't come back. Things for me and my generation weren't going to be "normal" ever again.

Resurrected from the rubble.
(reformedpastor.files.wordpress.com)

So how do I feel 8 years after the day? Well, I definitely don't feel the paranoia that I felt at those tense moments and the country has gone back almost to how it was pre-9/11, which is encouraging and scary at the same time. However, a bit of my innocence and self-security was robbed. It hasn't been over reactive experience for me. It's not like I check every exit of a restaurant or bar before I sit down, but this newly-developed sense of danger awareness grew in me, a sense that most of my Central Mass suburban brethren never paid much attention to until that day in '01. Since then, I do look around a lot more in huge public gatherings looking for things that are out of place. It may explain why I always cross myself on an airplane now even though I am not anything close to religious. It maybe the reason why I subconsciously don't go to too many tall buildings in major cities. An event like 9/11 just has to shape you, as an American and as a world citizen because now we live in a world your sense of security can be shattered in the flip of a switch. And the Land of the Free is no exception. The challenge is not only dealing with such a moment in history, but to keep a level head and remain somewhat rational. We all remember seeing our first guy in a turban after the attacks and holding back those images of the Middle East and terrorism that were played out in the news. We remember hearing those stories of the heroic deeds of the firefighters and the passengers on United Airlines Flight 93. We remember the sudden outburst of patriotism that spread throughout the country. We all remember the feelings of outrage and trying to figure out who exactly we should take these frustrations out on. I hate how people have somehow linked the Bush administration to all of this carnage. Sit down and think about it. Do you really think the guy who invented the term "fuzzy math" and said that it's hard to "put food on the family" would be clever enough to be the mastermind of a plot that would consist of synchronized explosions in multiple locations? I have to repeat, this is the BUSH administration folks. If you truly believe that, then shame on YOU. But I didn't write this to ramble about conspiracy theories. I wrote this to make sense of the memories that I still had of that day that existed through the aftermath, you know, the Afghanistan conflict, the lack of WMDs and our evolving anti-romantic relationships with countries like Iran and North Korea. By examining how I have dealt with it and by witnessing the actions of my country afterward, the security of our nation isn't necessarily my biggest worry. The thing I worry about is the psyche of a nation as it heals through an immense tragedy like 9/11, even with the scar tissue that will always be there.

In memoriam to all who died on 9/11/2001 and to the soldiers, alive and dead, who have paid the ultimate sacrifice to protect us and our freedom.
(piecemakerz2.com)