Forgetting 9.11

Five years ago I’d never heard of the World Trade Center. Honestly. I couldn’t have told you it was in New York City, and I certainly didn’t know there were “Twin Towers.” Completely clueless, I knew precious little about the Big Apple. I didn’t feel the need to know more.

But that was then. That was a different world.

September 11, 2001, started like any other day. I was in my sophomore year at Saint Elmo High School (attendance: 120), and like every morning I had ridden the bus to school. After arriving around 8 a.m. (central time), my friends and I huddled around to talk about “important stuff” (i.e. boys). Hey, we were 15, give us a break.

The bell was just a few minutes from ringing when suddenly, my friend Lorrie came running up to us. Her eyes spoke excitement before her mouth. She then proceeded to go off on some rant about planes or bombs or something. She continued with sentences to the effect of “A plane hit a NYC building…watched the news during breakfast…another plane came…I can’t believe it.”

Then the bell rang and cut her off. Time for class.

I headed off to P.E. where I told a few girls in the locker room. I didn’t have very many details to share, and, besides, it didn’t seem that important anyway. Our gym class spent the hour playing kickball, forgetting all about the plane/bomb nonsense.

We were in complete ignorance.

As our nation contemplated war…we contemplated bunting.

As passengers of hijacked planes feared death…we feared getting out at first.

While the rest of the world stood in shock and devastation…we joked, laughed, and waited impatiently to kick a blue rubber ball.

Ignorance is ridiculous in hindsight.

As P.E. ended and I walked out the gymnasium doors, it was as if I had entered a new world. Little did I know that it wasn’t just a feeling but an actuality. This was not the world I had left an hour earlier! The hallways were empty when they should have been full! It was not supposed to be this quiet! I headed to my second hour class, but when I got there we were redirected to the library. There, in the small open area between the bookshelves, teachers and students sat side by side with eyes glued to television screens. No one said a word.

With tears running silently down my face, I took a seat and remained there for the next two hours. The “nonsense” wasn’t insignificant anymore. I remember freaking out because my Uncle Gordy was in Washington, DC, at the time. Other than that, the rest of the day is a blur. As is the rest of the week.

…

While timing is a blur, the return of patriotism is a certainty. You couldn’t go anywhere without seeing “God Bless America” or the Stars and Stripes. Soon every thing from shirts to watches to books to mugs had a September 11th reference. This was a new world. We were UNITED again. We were one.

….

And now, five years and two wars later, I’ve never felt more affected yet disconnected to an event in my entire life. There is no doubt that 9.11 altered the lives of all Americans. Suddenly, sons and daughters were shipped into battle, terrorism became an everyday word, and the economy, well, we won’t even go there. Yet, even with all of these changes to life, to MY life, I still feel detached. It’s bizarre, really.

I spent the evening of September 11th this year by watching “United 93” and participating in a candlelight vigil, all here on campus. I hadn’t seen the movie before and was surprised at how little emotion it created in me. It got in my head, but not in my heart. Instead of weeping for those who died, I kept wondering…’what would it have been like to be the person who checked their luggage?’ or ‘what would it have been like to be the person who shut the doors to the planes?’ or ‘what would it have been like to be at the adjacent gate at the airport?’ These people were the last to see the passengers alive. What would it be like to be in their shoes today?

Yet, even in the midst of this intense reflection, my mind continues to see 9.11 as some distant nightmare. A story I once heard. It has become our nation’s crutch. If I hear a song about 9.11, I turn the station. Same with the television. Books, apparel, movies; it all seems like a marketing scheme to gain a profit. I’m tired of hearing about 9.11. The event I never wanted to forget is now the one that I most ignore.

Maybe if I had visited NYC or D.C. I’d feel differently. Or maybe if I had known someone who had lost a loved one.

It seems I’m forever affected yet increasingly disconnected.

Five years ago, September 11th filled my mind everyday. Five years later, I think of September 11th…only in the second week of September.

Some things you never forget…some things you do.
I would not have expected 9.11 to be among the latter.