After two decades, we must not forget

Twenty years. Two decades. Nearly the entire length of my middle son’s life.

Tuesday, Sept. 11, 2001, is a day I can’t forget. I don’t want to forget. I will not forget.

No one should ever forget.

I was in the shower getting ready for another day at work. Sandy was still in bed watching the small TV in our bedroom. I got out and was toweling off when she urgently called me over to see what she was watching. A plane had hit one of the World Trade Center towers in New York. No one seemed to know what happened. Was it an accident? Was it a big plane or a small one? I stood mesmerized wrapped in a towel watching events unfold.

Then the second tower was hit.

This is no accident. It’s an attack.

I knew instantly that I had to get to the office right away. I was a reporter for the Longmont (Colorado) Daily Times-Call. I was the first reporter to arrive at the newsroom. Another feature writer was next. A couple of editors were already there. By the time I arrived, the Pentagon had been hit. A short time later, a plane went down in a Pennsylvania field.

The decision was made to put out an extra edition. I put in calls to the police chief and city leaders to get the local angle. They were all tied up in an emergency meeting, but began returning calls immediately afterward. My colleague started getting information about vigils and special church services that were being hastily put together. The little bit of local copy we generated and whatever we could pull off The Associated Press wire was meshed into a quick special edition and was on the press about the time everyone else reported to work.

It was a helpless feeling. We didn’t know the extent of the attack. Was it over? Were there troops on the ground or more inbound planes? Were we a potential target? Why was this happening? Who was behind it?

So many questions. So few answers. So much uncertainty.

Everyone in the newsroom was busy that day localizing coverage. Even the sports writers were cranking out copy about canceled games. I worked late into the evening covering prayer meetings and services. I don’t think there was a lot of coffee consumed that day. The adrenaline alone kept us hyped up and going.

I dropped into bed late at night, fully exhausted. In the morning as I went to work, I noticed the mobile home next to ours had candles that were still burning on the front porch. I didn’t think anything of it. Candles, flags and ribbons were everywhere at that point.

Then I got the call from Sandy.

A breeze had kicked up and started the neighbor’s trailer on fire. She went over and woke them up and got them out. She then attacked the blaze with a garden hose until the fire department arrived. She called me to tell me she was being taken to the hospital for smoke inhalation. It turns out she was OK and later the city gave her an award for her life-saving heroics.

The next several weeks were busy ones with 9/11 related stories.

Life had changed. We drew together as a people. Petty differences were put aside. The American spirit had been revived and pride swelled to unimaginable levels. Even what few local Muslims and people of Middle Eastern descent we had in the area, although leery of the hard stares they received, were overwhelmed by the love and support shown to them.

Compared to now, I kind of miss those times. Twenty years ago, the Internet was still a new thing. You had to access it with a dial-up modem and most anyone with an email address used Juno or AOL. This was long before social media. It was so heartwarming to see how people could pull together, no matter how great the differences.

Today, there is so much hate, cyberbullying and false and misleading information proliferating on Facebook, Twitter and much of the rest of the Internet that you would think we have forgotten how to behave as civilized people.

We have forgotten. We have forgotten how to love and care for one another. We have forgotten how to respect people with opposing perspectives. We have learned to hate and distrust one another. We have learned to hide behind memes and anonymous snipes online.

When I say that I cannot and will not forget what happened on 9/11, I actually mean 9/12. Yes, I will always remember the attacks, but I will mostly remember the love, caring and togetherness we experienced on Sept. 12 and the short time that followed. We need more of that today.

That’s what I can’t forget. I don’t want to forget. I will not forget. No one should ever forget. Otherwise, the enemy will have won. We can’t allow that.

 

joe@fredericksburgstandard.com