It's that time of year again... the 19th anniversary of the worst terrorist attack to occur on American soil, on New York soil, my soil. Every year I post about the day, a perfect late summer day in New York that turned into absolute horror. Friends of mine died in the attack, friends of mine died after the attack due to illnesses related to the attack. Friends of mine got out of the towers with their coworkers (one tough-but-tenderhearted Queens guy I know barged into both men's and women's restrooms, bellowing, "Don't even wipe your ass, get out now!"), giving rise to PTSD and survivors' guilt. I was at work when the planes hit, but we were released early. Uncharacteristically, I didn't bike to work that morning because I was procrastinating, and ended up driving a coworker, a fellow Yonkers resident, home because the bus service had been canceled. When I got home, I walked to the corner of Yonkers Avenue and the New York State Thruway and stared at the thick smoke rising from lower Manhattan as emergency vehicles roared to the site.
I remember the aftermath of the attack, days spent on lines at blood banks (donating for survivors that never materialized), the missing persons notices popping up all over the city, the unreality of the changing narrative that inexorably shifted the blame from Saudi nations to Iraq, the coverups by the commission tasked to investigate the attack, the assertion that the administration which failed to keep us safe was our only hope of safety, the ridiculous security theater, and the growing xenophobia. I remember the dawning realization that the response to the attack would be inappropriate, disproportionate, and lucrative for the reigning Vice President.
Out of all the songs that were inspired by the attack, perhaps the one which best reflects my recollection is by a local band called 68 A.D. (n.b. Facebook link). The song is a narrative, without metaphor, and perfectly captures the feelings of worrying about a loved one, the impossibility of reaching Manhattan, the growing 'poison hate' felt while watching the news. It's also a cautionary tale concerning the diminution of freedoms, the divisions driven between Americans in the aftermath of an attack which should have united us.
Learn about your history
Fear is your greatest enemy
Hold onto your liberty
Bite the hand of tyranny.
If only more of us had taken that lesson to heart.
When I woke up that morning and saw the images of the airliners flying into the buildings, all I could think of was that it reminded me of the Japanese kamikaze pilots flying their planes into our ships during WWII. Then I thought that whoever was flying those airliners must really, really hate America and that I really couldn't blame them for what they did.
ReplyDeleteI blame them for what they did, they didn't do it to avenge any victims of American imperialism, they were Wahhabi fanatic who were enraged that infidel boots trod upon holy ground after the US military established bases in Saudi Arabia during Gulf War One.
ReplyDeleteThe closest hypothetical parallel I can think of would be a bunch of Opus Dei fundamentalists blowing up the Tokyo Tower because they were enraged that Japanese tourists were congregating at the Vatican.
I remember thinking the world will change forever now.
ReplyDeleteAnd it did :(
Osama could only have dreamed of the success it would end up being for radicalisation, fear-mongering, and ultimately, the loss of prestige and influence for America and Britain.
And yet the American government (not just Trump) still supports and sucks up to the Saudis.