I hope you’ll bear with me as I post about September 11th.  I’ve made no secret of the fact that I think these yearly commemorations are a real waste of energy and time, and do nothing for the survivors.  I’ve heard the arguments about “if we ignore history, we are destined to repeat it,” but the truth is, nothing about 9/11 was anything I had control over, and another such incident is not anything I can avoid or change or prevent.

So the whole week leading up to the 10-year anniversary of this event brings on a lot of eye-rolling on my part.  Every news report seemed to lead up to it, and there was this commemoration and that commemoration.  Even my little town got in on the act, with the newspapers extolling the virtues of the local firefighters who went to NYC after the event to help.  There was a parade, and symbolic events scheduled at one of the parks.

This is a part of history.  I get that.  I appreciate all that our first responders did to aid those directly affected by the crisis.  I understand the great loss we suffered as a country.  I don’t think any of us will truly forget this happened.  But as someone said to me last Sunday, “We all know what day it is.  We don’t need graphic reminders of it throughout the day.”

Amen, sister.  I kept the television off, hid posts from my friends on facebook who made posts about the date and what we “shouldn’t forget,” and generally stayed away from any media that would have forced me to remember the day for this one incident.  This date is also someone’s birthday.  Actually, several people I know had birthdays on that day.  How would you like that to be the topic of conversation everywhere on your birthday.  Joy.

It made me wonder what those that were directly affected by the event were thinking about all the activities surrounding this dubiously celebrated anniversary. Turns out, many of them just want everyone to shut up and move on already.  I listened to the September 11th episode of This American Life podcast, a few days late.  I almost didn’t listen to it because of the topic, but I like the podcast and thought I should at least attempt to listen to it.  I was not disappointed.  Ira Glass has a way of putting together interviews that make me think, make me feel, make me see things just slightly differently than I might have before.

This episode was no different.  Act 1 introduced us to a young man whose experience with 9/11 took him to Kabal and eventually to resistance activities in war-torn Afghanistan.  His early interviews vs. the current ones show the incredible and frightening shift in his purpose.  Act 2 featured an interview with a woman whose firefighter husband died in the aftermath of the attacks on New York.  The most poignant thing she said was when she repeated a statement she made to Dick Cheney during a White House function (he had asked her her opinion about the war in Iraq): “I feel like you are using the death of my husband as an excuse to involve us in this ridiculous and pointless war.”  Act 3 featured a story of a soldier deployed to Iraq, who upon returning home was so severely affected by PTSD that he almost beat his wife to death, and doesn’t remember a thing about it.  Act 4 told the story of an Iraqi-born translator who had to move to Norway to excape the death threats he and his family were receiving for “aiding the Americans.”  Act 5 told the absolutely shocking story about an American-born Muslim child harassed and persecuted in her town for simply being Muslim; she was 8 years old and her life has never been the same.  Act 6 tells the story of a woman who escaped the Twin Towers by following her coworkers down 89 flights of stairs.  She has left New York and has never been the same.

The overriding theme in these stories is how these people just want everyone to shut up about it.  Not to forget, but to stop “commemorating,” “honoring,” and dissecting all that is part of the event and its aftermath.  They want “normal,” they want things to be the way they were.

And I can completely understand that.  In fact, I agree.  It is sort of like someone sending me a card every year on the anniversary of my grandmother’s death.  It would do nothing but make me angry.  I know what day it is.  I don’t need a graphic reminder.

I can only hope that as the years pass, this need to relive and revisit  will dull and dim.

This entry was posted on Monday, September 19th, 2011 at 9:33 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.