Not Forgotten. But…Never Forget? 9/11 20 Years On Pt 2.

So, it has been a self-indulgent couple of days when it comes to searching my mind on the significance of this, the twenty-year mark after 9/11. Now that the day is here, I have foregone all discussion and remembrance…so far…its only 3:43 pm. See what happened there? I looked at the clock on the computer and it gave me the number of fallen FDNY members lost that day. It occurs for me just how much the day defines me, how it shaped my life and the lives of millions…and yet I struggle to comprehend it all.

Since 9/11 I have worked to cope. I published a book of poems about my experience entitled “After September.” The title inspired by the late Tommy Zurica, one of my mentors and co-workers from that time. Tommy was a big man and the only time he ever raised his voice was in laughter. He would speak constantly about how things had changed “after September,” and we all knew what he meant. He meant after September 11th, 2001. Tommy suffered personal loss as his brother-in-law, a New Yor City fire fighter, was killed in the collapse. He lost his own battle with cancer two years ago.

Prompted by my sister Pat’s query posted on her Face Book page, I recount in full my experience of that day. Simply, and as well as recollection can serve, what follows here is my latest catharsis on the matter. As I wrote, a presence to the sensations in my body let me know I was re-living the experience. I felt the fear and the anticipation of doom, I could hear the eerie quiet, and the subdued panic, I felt the rush of wind created by the collapsing south tower, I tasted the acrid stench of burning plastic, rubber, and a thousand other different substances released in ways nature did not intend.

I was in my office on the 14th floor at 60 Hudson Street writing an email. I heard the roar of the first plane and the explosion. A co-worker commented that some Navy fighter pilot was going to get in trouble for flying so low. This had a temporary calming effect. Then…

My boss came out of his office...his window had a view of the north elevation of the north tower. I was a facade inspector back then. He said "You wanna talk about facades, look at this!" I joined him in his office and saw the gaping hole high up on the building that was the north tower of the World Trade Center. Before smoke was even billowing out, I went to call Jen to tell her what had happened. I told her a jet hit the World Trade Center and I didn't think it was an accident. I had to go back to my car which was parked on Greenwich Street to get my binoculars. The streets were silent except for the growing sounds of sirens. I got back up to the 14th floor and went out onto a setback to start surveying the damage. As I was counting the number of columns the plane destroyed a sense of dread washed over me. I had learned from the previous attack on the Trade Center in 1993 that the exterior walls of the building were structural. I feared that the building might collapse. Then I began to witness the human tragedy. I began to see faces of people above the impact zone at the windows. They couldn't get out. My binoculars trained on a young, stout man with black hair wearing a chef’s coat. He was leaning out the broken window a thousand feet above the sidewalk. I prayed for him to sit tight. That help was on the way. I had no idea the plane had destroyed the stair wells below him. The second plane hit the south tower from the south. I didn't see it, but I heard the explosion. People began to panic. I went back to my car a second time and people were out of their buildings now looking up at the twin towers. I stopped to call Jen from a payphone this time in Yaffa's, a bistro on Greenwich Street. There was a line of people waiting to use the phone. It moved quickly as everyone felt the urgency to reach their loved ones. I told Jen I was alright and to stay inside. We had no TV back then; she didn't know what was happening. On my way back upstairs, my boss came out of the elevator and said the commissioner wants him to take a couple of inspectors and go down to the Trade Center. I was behind him and another inspector who wanted to drive, but my boss said we probably wouldn't get through. So we began to walk. Most everybody was going in the other direction. I looked up and saw people jumping out windows. Then I saw the top of the south tower wrack to the left. Everything seemed to happen in silence and slow motion and then there was dust everywhere. I couldn't see my boss or the other inspectors. I headed for the bridge. People were leaving Manhattan on foot in an orderly way. I helped a woman over a fence and onto Brooklyn Bridge. After I got over the bridge a man was sitting in his car listening to the radio. He said there was another plane that hit the Pentagon and one maybe was going to hit the White House or the Capitol. When Jen heard me out in the hallway, she flung the door open and hugged me, dust, and all. She was beside herself crying. Our friend Steven was there.

The rallying cry of “Never Forget” is etched in our minds…but just what are we remembering?

What I remember is grief. I have read that grieving never stops, that we adapt and learn to integrate it into our daily lives. But the pain is always there. It resurfaces as we empathize with others. What happens with those for whom empathy is not possible? When people cannot feel as others grieving feel?

Perhaps it is time to forget some things. Such as ethnicity, and skin color. It’s time to forget gender and sexuality. Time to forget political parties and affiliations. Time…long past time to forget divisions. Half the world looks to America as a shining beacon of hope for mankind. An example of what is possible when equal rights for all is the cherished norm. Half the world wants to tear that thing down and ensure mankind suffers a second dark age.

One of the most profound moments for me on September 12th, 2001, at Ground Zero was seeing a note scrawled in the pink dust clinging to a store front window which read: “I have seen war today.” People conflate destruction with war. Hurricanes and earthquakes can cause destruction, but no one admits Nature is at war with us. Is it because Nature has no political ideology, no religion, knows no border or bound? War is a state of mind. A state it seems so many who care little for its consequences are flocking to in droves.

Perhaps it is time to forget war as means to an end. The problems of this planet are complex and interconnected. People around the globe look to us, a fledgling society with a problematic past, to light its way into the future. Many think we did not ask for this responsibility, yet the words of our founders have outlived them. They have grown beyond their vision to become greater than the sum-total of all human history.

We…the people…hold these truths to be self-evident…

You may wonder where my anti-war stance comes from. I will tell you. I grew up during the Viet Nam era. The war was ramping up when I was in grade school and would not end until just before I graduated high school. My sixth-grade teacher was an imposing figure of a man. (Quite different from the young and idealistic teacher from fifth grade who read to us from the Hobbit on late spring afternoons.) This man had a military style about him. He would randomly handout “Patriot of the Day” awards and constantly defend what was happening in Viet Nam with pride and conviction. The memory of him seared on my soul is the human one where he broke down and cried in front of us while relaying the news of his own son’s death in the war.

Evidence compounded upon itself for me with nightly news broadcasts and eyewitness accounts from those who returned from the conflict, and the accounts from those whose brothers had not returned, combined with the growing anti-war demonstrations from those burning their draft cards to Muhammed Ali being stripped of his championship title for refusing to serve. And then there was John Lennon. Give Peace a Chance, War is Over…if you want it…

One can’t help but wonder about what all those who have died at war were fighting for. Wasn’t it a better future? Is this it yet? I for one will never disrespect a person in uniform who has the best interest of our society at heart. Yet I will ever seek, expose and decry hypocrisy behind the misuse and abuse of power.

I have not survived this thing called 9/11 to sit idly by while hate wrapped in the flag of the United States is allowed to flourish. The least I can do is speak my mind. Thank you for journeying with me thus far.