Recordatio
This was as close as I ever got to the World Trade Center.
A friend of mine was showing me around Greenwich Village in May of 2001. After taking me through NYU (and its Film School), Washington Square, the Shakespeare and Company bookstore, and several points in between, I caught this view of the towers and considered whether I wanted us to make our way down there as well--after all, they were a famous and iconic Manhattan landmark. Ultimately, though, it seemed late in the day to add in such a visit, so I nixed the idea, secure in the knowledge that I could just go there the next time I found myself in New York.
My friend and I went to Serendipity, the well-known dessert spot, instead.
On the morning of September 11, 2001, I awoke to find members of my family reacting strongly to something on television. I caught a momentary, groggy glimpse of the WTC and told them that this was "obviously" a news report related to the 1993 terrorist attack there. A few minutes, and a slightly more alert state of mind, were enough for me to correct my initial impression...and I was ensnared by the news coverage, as the rest of the world was.
Immediately, my thoughts went to everyone I knew around New York--and soon enough, around Washington, DC. Information was scarce, even with two TV's and an Internet connection working for me, so I had no idea who or what might be affected. I went through a mental checklist of people (Alexandria, Jodi, Kristina, Naomi...) and tracked down phone numbers to ring each of them in person, only to receive a message I'd never heard before: "All circuits are busy."
Email.
I ran to my computer and started firing off messages to the same list of people. Alexandria phoned me before I wrote her ("Have you seen--?" "I know."), and I asked her to keep me updated, however possible, since she was close to what was happening. Fortunately, everyone I contacted was okay, and they let me know that was the case within a couple of hours...
...but everyone was in a state of shock, especially those who were close enough to see what was going on firsthand. I experienced my own heightened state of shock when I watched the north tower collapse live on CBC Newsworld--the anchor was struck silent, while I jumped to the back of my living room in disbelief.
I'd already had plans to stay home that day, so I ended up serving as something of a hub of information for people who had unavoidable obligations, since I could easily provide information to them from multiple sources. I tried to reach Kimberly and Scott, my former American flatmates in Sydney, as it was the middle of the night there and I wasn't sure they were aware of what had happened; and I did reach my (local) friend Bradley, who'd been sleeping and was thus definitely unaware of what had happened.
Hours and hours passed. Updates went back and forth, and I tried to absorb the impact of that day's events, wondering what the world would be like afterwards. A number of strange, tangential trains of thought went through my mind--I remembered that the first episode of The Lone Gunmen had concerned a plot to fly a plane into the World Trade Center, and it occurred to me that even the most lighthearted of television series set in New York would now take on a tragic quality every time an image of the towers was shown. (Over time, I've definitely found the latter to be true; Homer Simpson's frantic use of their restrooms is just sad to watch now.)
Late, late that night, I finally allowed myself to get some sleep rather than continue to watch CBC and CNN, whose pundits and stock footage of the second plane crash and live footage of smoke and rubble had become a recipe for ongoing dread.
And then, somehow, things just went on their way.
I find it hard to believe that five years have already passed. In a lot of ways, I feel like this just happened, and I still have to occasionally confront the reality of those attacks existing as a part of our collective history.
The world came together that day in a way that I found gratifying. Here, clearly, was an event that horrified everyone, regardless of nationality or other background, and typical lines of division between people fell away as irrelevant (which they always are, really, though we scarcely notice this as we draw those lines). People discovered what was best and most noble in themselves through their reactions, and that initial unifying force could've (and seemed to be starting to) show us all a lot about our common humanity.
How unfortunate, then, to see what has become of the world since that day: a climate of jingoistic fear mixed with outright racism, as people of influence everywhere are only too eager to take advantage of this and launch an attempted clash of civilisations. I look at the front page of our local paper ("Canadians shift blame to U.S. for 9/11") and think of how many other countries must now share that view, after initially declaring on that day, "We are all New Yorkers."
I imagine what might've been--a renewed spirit of international cooperation as the world came together to capture and prosecute what was really a small but radically violent group of criminals--and instead wince at what is, blocs of countries isolating themselves in their respective corners as even the "defenders of freedom" commit egregious human rights violations that degrade us all.
There is no way that I could predict what will happen to the world in the next five years, and I'm not going to try any detailed analysis. What I would hope is that we can still live up to the promise of those first days, that our leadership can change and that we can avoid giving in to fear. What I dread is that we will get more of the same, that our leadership will still be fixated on manufacturing the Other and then warring against it, and that our fears will consume us.
Either way, the future beckons.
Where were you on 9/11?
How do you feel its events have affected you, if at all?
What do you hope the world will be like on September 11, 2011? Is that the same as what you expect the world will be like then? If not, what are the differences?
It's never too late to comment here.
A friend of mine was showing me around Greenwich Village in May of 2001. After taking me through NYU (and its Film School), Washington Square, the Shakespeare and Company bookstore, and several points in between, I caught this view of the towers and considered whether I wanted us to make our way down there as well--after all, they were a famous and iconic Manhattan landmark. Ultimately, though, it seemed late in the day to add in such a visit, so I nixed the idea, secure in the knowledge that I could just go there the next time I found myself in New York.
My friend and I went to Serendipity, the well-known dessert spot, instead.
On the morning of September 11, 2001, I awoke to find members of my family reacting strongly to something on television. I caught a momentary, groggy glimpse of the WTC and told them that this was "obviously" a news report related to the 1993 terrorist attack there. A few minutes, and a slightly more alert state of mind, were enough for me to correct my initial impression...and I was ensnared by the news coverage, as the rest of the world was.
Immediately, my thoughts went to everyone I knew around New York--and soon enough, around Washington, DC. Information was scarce, even with two TV's and an Internet connection working for me, so I had no idea who or what might be affected. I went through a mental checklist of people (Alexandria, Jodi, Kristina, Naomi...) and tracked down phone numbers to ring each of them in person, only to receive a message I'd never heard before: "All circuits are busy."
Email.
I ran to my computer and started firing off messages to the same list of people. Alexandria phoned me before I wrote her ("Have you seen--?" "I know."), and I asked her to keep me updated, however possible, since she was close to what was happening. Fortunately, everyone I contacted was okay, and they let me know that was the case within a couple of hours...
...but everyone was in a state of shock, especially those who were close enough to see what was going on firsthand. I experienced my own heightened state of shock when I watched the north tower collapse live on CBC Newsworld--the anchor was struck silent, while I jumped to the back of my living room in disbelief.
I'd already had plans to stay home that day, so I ended up serving as something of a hub of information for people who had unavoidable obligations, since I could easily provide information to them from multiple sources. I tried to reach Kimberly and Scott, my former American flatmates in Sydney, as it was the middle of the night there and I wasn't sure they were aware of what had happened; and I did reach my (local) friend Bradley, who'd been sleeping and was thus definitely unaware of what had happened.
Hours and hours passed. Updates went back and forth, and I tried to absorb the impact of that day's events, wondering what the world would be like afterwards. A number of strange, tangential trains of thought went through my mind--I remembered that the first episode of The Lone Gunmen had concerned a plot to fly a plane into the World Trade Center, and it occurred to me that even the most lighthearted of television series set in New York would now take on a tragic quality every time an image of the towers was shown. (Over time, I've definitely found the latter to be true; Homer Simpson's frantic use of their restrooms is just sad to watch now.)
Late, late that night, I finally allowed myself to get some sleep rather than continue to watch CBC and CNN, whose pundits and stock footage of the second plane crash and live footage of smoke and rubble had become a recipe for ongoing dread.
And then, somehow, things just went on their way.
I find it hard to believe that five years have already passed. In a lot of ways, I feel like this just happened, and I still have to occasionally confront the reality of those attacks existing as a part of our collective history.
The world came together that day in a way that I found gratifying. Here, clearly, was an event that horrified everyone, regardless of nationality or other background, and typical lines of division between people fell away as irrelevant (which they always are, really, though we scarcely notice this as we draw those lines). People discovered what was best and most noble in themselves through their reactions, and that initial unifying force could've (and seemed to be starting to) show us all a lot about our common humanity.
How unfortunate, then, to see what has become of the world since that day: a climate of jingoistic fear mixed with outright racism, as people of influence everywhere are only too eager to take advantage of this and launch an attempted clash of civilisations. I look at the front page of our local paper ("Canadians shift blame to U.S. for 9/11") and think of how many other countries must now share that view, after initially declaring on that day, "We are all New Yorkers."
I imagine what might've been--a renewed spirit of international cooperation as the world came together to capture and prosecute what was really a small but radically violent group of criminals--and instead wince at what is, blocs of countries isolating themselves in their respective corners as even the "defenders of freedom" commit egregious human rights violations that degrade us all.
There is no way that I could predict what will happen to the world in the next five years, and I'm not going to try any detailed analysis. What I would hope is that we can still live up to the promise of those first days, that our leadership can change and that we can avoid giving in to fear. What I dread is that we will get more of the same, that our leadership will still be fixated on manufacturing the Other and then warring against it, and that our fears will consume us.
Either way, the future beckons.
Where were you on 9/11?
How do you feel its events have affected you, if at all?
What do you hope the world will be like on September 11, 2011? Is that the same as what you expect the world will be like then? If not, what are the differences?
It's never too late to comment here.