Where was I? In a middle school classroom watching in sheer terror as the attack took place on TV that morning. The imagery will forever be seared into my memory. That was the moment the innocence of my world was shattered. I was no longer 12 years old, I was a witness to brutal history.
Was the world about to end? Would I get to see my grandmother again? I was truly scared. All I wanted to do for the rest of the day was go home. The teachers and staff were like zombies, struggling to maintain their composure for our sake. It was clearly evident they were failing. The fear and uneasiness didn't leave the hallways of my school for months to come.
Yeah. My heart sinks each time I recall it. That's why I don't give a damn about your 9/11 conspiracies. I really don't.
NEVER FORGET
9/11/2001
Thanks. What a poignant recollection.
Seems like—talking about that day online, with a bunch of virtual strangers, is somehow easier; a sort of commiseration-boon of anonymity without the in-person sensory overload of a group sitting in a circle of folding chairs; a therapeutic efficacy free from that suffocating stale sweat smell and awkward eye contact. While I shared my own 9/11 story with the board in another thread, I cannot imagine having had to deal with the smoking humid terror of that day at so young an age. Myself, I had just turned 28.
I had also recently transitioned from the active duty army the to the army national guard; from a regimental reconnaissance detachment to a long range surveillance detachment surveillance team. As mentioned in another thread my wife and I were home visiting with my parents. The irony for us—once the shock of our initial horror faded some from seeing the televised attack unfold in endless replay—was that she had convinced me not to re-up with the regular army, so I'd be around more often and less high strung. That was our deal made between us, near the outset of our marriage.
And then 9/11 happened and we were separated again, although, we were certainly much more fortunate than those separated forever from their loved ones that day. I still remember clearly (down to the sky, weather, and faces in the crowds) the rage-excitement-fear a few days later when my wife and parents drove me to BWI to catch a flight, alone, back to Michigan. A couple of days after that, I was deployed and we were en route to stage in Tajikistan.
Funny how music can be so powerful a memory capsule and trigger. We sang
"Friends in Low Places" ad nauseam in the back of the C-141, and I put lots more miles and wear on my
Kill 'Em All CD listening to
(Anesthesia)Pulling Teeth and
No Remorse, over and over again.
Nothing but hours of popping ear drums, cold sweaty skin and stomach flops with sudden altitude drops. Hell, I didn't have a cell phone until 2003, so there were no text messages. Just a whole lot of wanting to be with my now ex-wife and, in all honesty, worrying like hell she'd find someone better while I was gone. Crazy hard when you have two different, yet equally strong gravities pulling you in opposite directions, particularly when one "gravity" has your body flying off in one direction and the other, your mind, held in an iron grip of longing for someone left behind.
Really puts things into perspective (or does it muddy those waters?) when in looking back, we see through the connected chains of life decisions to do or not to do something, we build inescapable bridges for ourselves to certain future events; and we get speeded toward them on rails (fate? destiny? bad choices?). Events which always seem to either come with unforeseen accompanying consequences or regret for missed opportunities. Kind of makes one wonder why
they are taking so long coming out with our robot butlers.
