The bright blue sky greeted me this morning with beautiful rays of sunshine piercing through the gaps in the curtains as I strolled through my home, opening windows to let the fresh air fill the house.
The sound of a small propeller powered aircraft flying at low altitude overhead punctuates the soundtrack of life as the wind blows through the leaves, rustling in a natural white noise, with the blissful sounds of birds chirping, and wind-chimes crafting their natural song as they sway in the breeze.
The weather is eerily reminiscent of this day, albeit slightly cooler, twenty years ago.
On that day, which I still remember so vividly, at just about the same time, I was in second period at Swartz Creek High School, and the Football season being upon us, we found ourselves engaged in Marching Band rehearsals on the Football Field. By this time in my life, I was a senior, and our ‘Center’ Snare Drummer, but I’d become entitled, and lazy when it came to my rehearsing- We’ll call it Senior-itis. I remember looking down upon my Premier Snare Drum that lay on the freshly cut turf, it’s gleaming deep red shell glistening in the sun, perfectly offset by bright white hardware. We were the first class to have received these gorgeous new drums, part of a complete set that included tuned bass-drums as well as quads, and they were truly beautiful instruments to behold.
As many of us began to take our positions in formation on the field, one of my classmates burst onto the field in full sprint from the band room, shouting that someone had flown a plane into the World Trade Center, and that it was on the Television in the classroom. I assumed it was a mis-guided small private aircraft, like a Cessna, that had lost control, but never one to let a good excuse go to waste to abandon whatever I was supposed to be doing, I ran inside to see what all the commotion was about.
When I entered the class room, there was a small gathering of students and faculty watching the events unfold on the Breaking News story that had interrupted the regular programming.
Although, academically, the rest of the day was a blur, I remember moving from classroom to classroom throughout the periods, with rumors and spotty information swirling. We’d heard about the Pentagon, and the twin-towers collapsing. It had already been claimed that this was a terror attack, but updates passed from student to student like a terrible game of telephone, and none of us truly knew the full scope and breadth of what was happening.
In what I can remember to be the first time in my life that I’d realized the world of 24-hour news coverage meant simply being first, and not necessarily being correct, mis-information, and incorrect details were serving to muddy up the truth, and while the events that were unfolding were horrific in and of themselves, the sensationalized claims were worse.
In the hallway rumblings, we’d hear that the Statue of Liberty, the White House, the U.S. Capital, and numerous other notable buildings had also been hit. This, obviously, turned out to be untrue, but we had no way of knowing what was true, and what wasn’t.
Some class-rooms had their televisions on, with students, as well as teachers, many of whom had given up on attempting to compete for the students’ attention, fixating on every update.
I remember sitting in my fourth period Government class, and one of my classmates being nearly inconsolable after receiving a text message, something that was a new and exciting technology for us at the time, that his brother was being immediately deployed, but to where, and for what, still remaining a mystery. My teacher for that class, a former United States Marine, and U.S. Army Drill Sergeant, allowed us to discuss the events amongst one another in an open forum, helping to shift the conversation away from as much of the mis-information as he could. Other teachers would pop in and out, obviously respecting the experience of his military and government knowledge.
The bus-ride home was somewhat typical, although I can recall seeing all of the students filing out of the High School like zombies- Shell shocked at what was happening, and unsure how to process it all in our emotionally stunted, intellectually immature reasoning capabilities that were underdeveloped, yet would somehow never remain the same after that day. I took my usual seat, all the way in the back of the bus, passenger side, and slipped my Sony headphones around the back of my head and over my ears, plugging them into my well used Aiwa portable CD player (that I still have, working faithfully to this day). While I don’t recall the album, I’m sure it was something by Metallica, which was also a nickname I’d earned amongst the Marching Band for having had a collection of Metallica T-Shirts so vast that I could go several months without wearing the same shirt twice.
Getting home from school, I can remember holing up in my bedroom and gluing myself to my television set, watching the live footage as rescue efforts were underway in New York City. Slowly, reports would begin to surface about who was claiming responsibility for the attacks. New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani and U.S. President George W. Bush would both make poignant speeches from the rubble that day that elicited a feeling of patriotism, and unity.
I remember watching updates deep into the night, as the flickering light of the television set lulled me to sleep. I felt angry, and sad. Coming from a family deeply rooted in military service, I wanted revenge, and like many, I didn’t care who that revenge was carried out upon. I was just a naïve 18-year-old kid, looking for a fight to avenge a wrong that was carried out on my people.
In years since, I’ve heard people say, “I miss September 12th, I miss the patriotism, and people putting differences aside to come together” and while I’ll readily admit that I, too, miss the unity, and feeling of commonality that resulted, I just wish that it didn’t take such an atrocity for us, as a nation, to come together in support of one another. In the two decades since, war, racial tensions, concerns over how the police actually police, general political divisiveness of our inept leaders (on both sides), and a global pandemic have lead us to become the most divided we’ve likely ever been in our 245 year history.
Still, at that time, many from my generation answered the call following September 11th. Most would enter the military, and while I intended to do the same, physical ailments (mitral valve proplase, and spinal stenosis) precluded me from military service, so I dedicated my efforts to supporting my community by joining my local paid-on-call Fire Department, inspired by the 343 New York Firefighters that selflessly gave their lives in efforts to help complete strangers that were trapped in the World Trade Center.
A lot has changed since September 11th, 2001. We said we wouldn’t forget, but I believe in a lot of ways we have- We’re more deeply divided than I’ve ever seen, and patriotism feels to be at an all time low. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t believe in blind patriotism, nor unfettered nationalism. It’s one thing to be proud of your nation, and your government, but I don’t think we’re in a position to truly be proud of either right now, and regardless of where you stand on what actually happened 20 years ago, it’s hard not to admit that we’ve willfully allowed ourselves to be stripped of countless freedoms in the aftermath of 9/11 in the name of safety, and security (Enter a global pandemic, which has us doing that very thing yet again).
I don’t mince my words in that I still think we’ve got a lot of things to be grateful for as Americans, and I wouldn’t wish to live anywhere else at the present time, but I also don’t believe we’re perfect, and I still think we’ve got a lot of work to do to achieve the ideals that were penned by our forefathers. To that end, while many will criticize their hypocritical ways, it is the concepts they laid out, not the way in which they were executed, that I celebrate and still hope to see achieved within our nation. Most notably the “All Men Are Created Equal,” and the concept of “Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.”
As a good friend pointed out today, I’ve now lived more of my life post-9/11 than pre, which is an odd thought to embrace, but two decades removed, it’s amazing how vividly I can still remember the details of the day that the skies fell silent.
#September11th #9/11 #America #AmericanHistory #911 #September11 #WorldTradeCenter #WTC #Terrorism
From the desk of Dave Foster 