Thirteen Years After a Dark Day

Has it really been thirteen years? It has been.

It is still so painful to think about, and I don’t only think about it this time of year. The thoughts and memories sometimes just enter my mind, tangential to seemingly nothing. Excuse me while I scatter some memories, in no particular order.

I remember the feeling of shock thinking that the country was being attacked, and that I did not feel safe anymore.

I remember staring at the television and seeing all of the talking heads talk, and wondering how it was possible that a man about whom we had such strong and bitterly harsh feelings could be standing in front of a microphone, tears in his eyes, condemning what had happened.

Sitting in an apartment on the Upper West Side, listening to Gershwin and looking at old photographs of the World Trade Center and having a cry.

Looking at the beams of light jutting upward in the sky.

Thinking of Thomas Pynchon and the thoughts of the relevance of Gravity’s Rainbow.

Walking past table after table of t-shirts and bumper stickers and wondering for what good they served other than filling someone’s wallet at the expense of cheapening the memory.

Hearing about Sikh worshipers attacked, and not at all coincidental or random hate crimes against people of the Sikh faith, which has as much to do with the attack on the Twin Towers as Wayne Gretzky has to do with the New York Knicks.

Seeing videos of people in Israel dancing in the street, sent to me by people as proof of how sick people can be — only to find out that those videos were years old and were irrelevant — but then to be told by my mother that my Aunt in Israel actually saw people celebrating. That hurt.

Hearing, year after year, such rhetoric as “kill them all” and other such nonsense that is absolutely insane — are you Davros to be plotting such genocide?

Thinking and wondering about the meaning of something I read on my Dr. Bronner’s bottle in the context of the September 11th attacks — “More good is caused by evil than by good, do what’s right!” — because it brought people together? Because it refocused the minds of many who were living selfishly and brought them into meaningful lives of helping others? I’m not sure how far to take the line.

Where were you when the planes hit?


One thought on “Thirteen Years After a Dark Day

  1. Pingback: Lessons from a Soap Bottle — The Selfish and The Selfless | blog of gordon davidescu

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