Never Forget

Yesterday was the 21st anniversary of 9/11, perhaps the most significant and collectively traumatic historical event in our lifetime. 

A lot of people were recounting where they were on that day. I have told my account many times, both privately and publicly; it isn’t a very interesting account, however, so I’m not going to repeat it at this time. Odd as it seems, I don’t find it relevant to what I’m feeling right now. 

That’s because, as horrific and devastating that day was for so many, it didn’t really affect me so much as it startled me. You see, literally the day before it happened I was ranting with a friend about how corrupt our country was, and how it was due for a reckoning of sorts. So to see this play out on TV was strange, as if I somehow had something to do with allowing this to occur.

But that’s just making it about me. I actually know two people who were directly affected by 9/11: one was a former high school classmate who worked at the Pentagon, and the other was a former co-worker who was in the North tower and was evacuated before it fell.

Their accounts are more valid and relevant than mine. I defer to them on this day— in my opinion, anything I felt on 9/11 pales in comparison and therefore doesn’t warrant being on the same level. This is not me being humble or modest— this is me acknowledging that sometimes our own opinions on matters should best be left to the dustbin of history.

Like, Pete Davidson has more to say about 9/11 than I ever could. The fact that he doesn’t dwell on it says a lot about him and how it has affected his life.

I think my lack of an outsized reaction, in hindsight, is due to having lived in the shadow of trauma from the age of 14 on. I was 27 when 9/11 went down and had adjusted to that trauma accordingly by that time. I never received any therapy or treatment for that trauma (something I will document in this blog at a later date) so my response was one of disinterest and maybe even a little resentment… I recall feeling like people should “get over it” without being vocal about it due to my reluctance to upset anyone during that time.

I jotted down my impressions somewhere; I think I even started writing a novel set during the  days following 9/11. It was a surreal week, and I should probably dig it out and revisit it, if only to take stock of how my emotions have changed over time. Now that I am dealing with the shock of losing my brother, it should be of some interest to see how I would deal with such an epic, national event today. 

BTW: I’m not one of those people who insists we should “never forget” 9/11. The fact is, it can’t be forgotten, even if we tried. It’s like saying “Don’t forget to breathe”… but there’s also the next generation and what they tend to honor. My son wasn’t born yet, so as much as he understands how messed up 9/11 was, his ideas about it have nothing to do with the shared trauma we all experienced that day. There is detachment in his mind about it.

It’s like how I was obsessed with the JFK assassination— it wasn’t based on my visceral assessment of having lived through it, because it happened over a decade before I was alive. No, instead my obsession with November 22 1963 was largely rooted in societal attitudes towards it. “Where were you when Kennedy was killed” and all that… I wasn’t even a blip on the radar. But I wanted to fit in with the national discussion, so conspiracy folklore was my key to entry. Yet I was oblivious to the feelings of those people who were alive when Kennedy’s died.

Well, I’m alive now, and even though it took a while for me to understand, I think I have finally come to grips with my reaction to such a thing as 9/11. It won’t be the last moment of its kind, but at least I don’t feel awkward about my ambivalence towards it. I know now that my callous indifference was rooted in some deep-seated fear and bitterness. 

It makes me wonder how my two associates who experienced it first hand are reflecting upon this anniversary. But I’m too afraid to reach out to them, for fear of triggering something in them that may have tried to bury.