9/11 Reflections - 19 years later
Adam B Kaplan
An older me, looking back to one crisis amidst multiple, present crises.
Rose-colored glasses
Even times of tragedy can appear to have silver linings with time and distance. My generation’s historic pivot came at the end of second period gym class, as my friends gathered their belongings for homeroom. We watched on live TV as the World Trade Center towers imploded, nearly three thousand dying before our very eyes. My high school was in one of the wealthier suburbs north of New York City - many of us had parents who worked in Lower Manhattan, some in the World Trade Center itself. I recall only one or two students who lost a parent that day, none amongst my circle of friends. Later we learned a recent alum was in one of the airplanes that crashed into the towers.
Somewhere amongst my things is a marble composition notebook my English teacher made us write in daily. The school year was barely two weeks in, and before 9/11/2001 I had a smattering of entries - some earnest, others horribly forced. That night I wrote an entry entitled, “The Darkest Day,” with page after page of sorrow, fear, and confusion. I remember riding my bike to a point on the Long Island Sound with my friends, where we could see the smoke burning from Ground Zero. We sat and stared in the sunset, in full awe and disbelief.
In the aftermath I remember the true sense of unity we Americans had as a country. George W. Bush was still a rookie president, and I like other professed Democrats had a sour taste in my mouth from Bush vs. Gore and the 2000 election fiasco. After 9/11, I remember us ready to learn from our mistakes, and in the 9/11 Commission Report we found plenty of things to fix. I remember us ready to stand firm in our principles, as President Bush demonstrated by publicly and vigorously defending Islam less than two weeks after the towers fell. I remember feeling - briefly, fleetingly - that our partisan differences didn’t matter, that America was ready and willing to come to New York’s help and unleash righteous justice with our fight against Al Qaeda.
Seeing red (again)
Taking off these glasses 19 years later, my world is still red - red with flame. The entirety of the Western United States is physically on fire, fueled by climate change. We have been marching in the streets for over three months due to the weekly onslaught of Black lives taken by our police.
And America is the only developed nation that continues to be ravaged by a global pandemic, the likes of which the world has not seen since the 1918 Spanish Flu. As of this post more people have died of COVID-19 in my new home state, North Carolina, than all total casualties on 9/11. As a country, the US is experiencing 9/11-scale deaths from the virus every three or four days.
There have been moments of beauty and unity, such as the 7PM cheers when nurses and doctors changed shifts. On my block, proximity and frequent contact amongst “quaranteams” have blossomed or strengthened friendships. We’ve put some of the technology we have to better use with friend Zoom calls and virtual happy hours.
But as father doing my part to keep my family safe, healthy, and educated in quarantine, I am astounded by the ugliness and division surrounding me. Progress on climage change is happening in spite of, not because of, current US policies. We have a President and police who look the other way while an idolizing teen opens fire on BLM protesters, murdering two and injuring one in the process. And the most basic public health precaution to fight COVID-19 - wearing a cloth mask - has become an object of partisan division.
I don’t see a country capable of uniting and sacrificing to do what is best for the greater good.
I don’t see a country capable of helping states when they are in need.
I don’t see, well, a country.