Nine-Eleven
9/11 is one of those things that can mean so much to people and at the same time mean almost nothing at all. Don’t get me wrong: I remember where I was on this day in 2001, and I genuinely feel hurt for those people that died in the attacks. I’m happy that now, 8 years later we’ve begun to actually heal and not concentrate so much on such horrible events.
I remember being woken up by my mother who was telling me something was happening at the World Trade Centers; something big and it was enough to get me out of bed at like 7 AM. (This was essentially summer for me, and college was 3 weeks away from starting.) I remember watching the TV, seemingly all morning. A friend dropped by to watch the news with me. She left after a few hours. It was all a little nuts.
I feared for friend’s I had in the area– folks who went across the country for school, people I hadn’t seen in years. Suddenly I wanted to get in contact with all of them. I didn’t, really. That in itself turned out to be a chore I wasn’t interested in either.
The day passed and gradually the friends I had, and some not so friends convened at someone’s house. Instinctively we all wanted to talk and just feel better. We did watch <i>Arlington Road</i>, perhaps not the best idea at the time but I think we just wanted to know how someone could do such a thing.
I remember the feeling of despondency went on for weeks. TV was filled with what ifs, hastily thrown together “documentaries” on what was going on in the Taliban, and suddenly a new country for us to care about: Pakistan.
A sudden haste to remove the twin towers from all forms of media: movies, tv, music, the whole bit. One of my favorite band’s at the time, Bush had a song called “Speed Kills” that was running up the charts. The song quickly stagnated and the band actually broke up another number of months later. I’m actually kind of surprised I remember so much of it.
Time again to let the past be the past I suppose. On to happier things…