9/11: What Have We Learned?

 

Flight 93 National Memorial

Image © 2011

by Ralph F. Couey

Copyright © 2020

by Ralph F. Couey

I won't bore you by telling you where I was and what I was doing when the news came through.  I won't expend the words recounting the events of that dark day.  I won't even try to articulate how that day impacted that circle of friends and acquaintances that surrounded me at that time.  But as we are upon the 19th anniversary of September 11, 2001, there are some things that need to occupy our thoughts.

It's hard to believe the speed at which the intervening time has seemingly passed, and the miles we have traveled as a country since then.  Times have certainly changed.  The world is an entirely different place.  But we are still deeply, irredeemably divided, standing on either side of a political and social chasm that widens noticeably each day.  The lesson about unity which was so harshly taught that day has been swept aside by a seeming competition as to who can hate more intensely.  In 2011, it took an attack; a disaster unprecedented in our history to drop the walls of separation, at least for a time.  I think if an attack of that magnitude happened again today, we might come completely apart in the spasm of blame which would surely follow.

So, the question begs:  What have we learned?

The passage of years has largely healed the pain of the wound America suffered that day.  There will be ceremonies of remembrance and commemoration in Manhattan, Arlington, and outside of Shanksville.  There will be smaller events scattered across the country.  The media will cover the events locally, but I haven't heard if the Big Five will carry them nationally in their entirety.  I doubt that most Americans will consider it must-see TV.

In a sense, this reduced awareness is a sign that America is healing.  In another sense, it is a sign that what has been a painful memory to many is about to become history for all.

The United States has been much better fighting terrorism.  There have been attacks through the years, but generally speaking, they have been committed by so-called lone wolves.  There have been attempts at major attacks, but were nipped in the bud by the excellent work of the Intelligence Community and law enforcement.  Because of that, the threat has fallen from the top of most of our lists.  In conversations, the subject is rarely discussed, if at all.  Today, the Pandemic has our full attention, terrorism by microorganism.  

For me, 9/11 will always be a day of somber reflection.  The frustration of being caught completely off-guard is a burr that has never budged from my personal saddle.  The enormous loss of life that day, in three widely separated locations, mainly people whose only crime was going to work that day.  The deaths that really rocked the nation were those of the firefighters and police officers who went into the danger while others went the other direction.  343 firefighters and 50 police officers died that day.  One of the enduring images was this: 

Photo by John Labriola

Firefighter Mike Kehoe was captured as he trudged up the endless stairs towards the fire and death, still hundreds of feet above.  Kehoe actually survived, as he and his colleagues were recalled by the FDNY after the first tower collapsed, and after rendering assistance on the ground floor, was able to leave the building moments before it collapsed.  What I see is a man already showing the strain of the climb, encumbered by about a hundred pounds of gear.  The sweat-stained shirts of those descending illustrate the tough conditions that existed within that stairwell, people who weren't so encumbered.  It illustrates to me the dedication and commitment that every firefighter must have, and the courage to knowingly and unhesitatingly go into danger.  There were many others who made that ascent that day who never left the tower.  We remember them every 9/11, although they deserve our thanks every day.

Imagine, if you will, earlier that morning.  You and your spouse are scurrying around the house like any other morning.  Getting the kids up, fed, packed, and off to school.  The normal kind of normal interactions -- reminders of appointments, kid's games, plans for the weekend -- the kind of things we say to each other when we are assured that tomorrow will come, and be largely unchanged from today.  Suddenly, before the workday as even properly started, the news begins to come through.  Televisions and radios are turned on, and viewers see the huge gash in the side of the tower from which oily, black smoke is emitting.  Speculation about what kind of plane could hit a building on a day with such sparkling clear skies.  Maybe there were those who suddenly realized that a loved one, perhaps that most important loved one, was somewhere inside that flaming hell.  The subsequent events -- the second plane strike, the collapse of the first, then the second towers, the news that the Pentagon had been struck, and another plane had crashed in rural Pennsylvania -- all feeding the shocking sense of unreality.

Then the return home.  Waiting desperately, painfully for word -- any word -- that the person for whom your entire world revolves will ever come home again.  The pain when reality struck, and the task of telling small children why a parent was gone forever.

One of the most important lessons of that day for me was the importance of recognizing how temporary and fragile human life can be, and how a life can be taken from us in an event the enormity of which steals the pain of each individual life.  It doesn't take a major disaster for that kind of impact.  People die every day in accidents, from illness, crime, and now, a Pandemic.  How many of us, in the wake of such loss, begged for (as the song said) one more moment.

9/11, and my own very personal experience with death, taught me that every day is precious.  Every person is precious.  No more do I wait to tell people how much they mean to me.  I cherish my friendships, and those whom I love.  I've learned to never wait until tomorrow.  Because tomorrow may never come.

Life has a way of becoming mundane and routine.  We are so caught up in the "have-to-dos" and "gotta-be-theres" that crowd our schedule that we become blind to the priceless things that happen every day.  A glimpse of nature's matchless beauty; sharing friendship; the enduring cuteness of a child, even a teenager; and that smile from across the room from the love of our life, but not just any smile.  That special one.  The one they save only for us.

These are things we can lose, that can be ripped away from us in a moment.  If there was something I could tell everyone to remember on this 19th year after 9/11, it would be to spend today telling people how special and important they are.  To think about how your life would change if they somehow vanished.  We don't spend enough time doing this.  So, today, take the time.

Star Trek's Captain Picard once said, "Someone once told me that time was a predator that stalked us all our lives.  But I rather believe that time is a companion, who goes with us on the journey and reminds us to cherish every moment because they'll never come again.  Seize the time...live now! Make "now" always the most precious time.  Because "now" will never come again." 

In whatever context you choose, make "now" the most important moment of each day.  Never allow it to slide by without notice.  

And while we are all still here together, love one another.  Now.