Hijackers rammed jetliners into each of New York’s World Trade Center towers yesterday, toppling both in a hellish storm of ash, glass, smoke and leaping victims, while a third jetliner crashed into the Pentagon in Virginia. There was no official count, but President Bush said thousands had perished, and in the immediate aftermath the calamity was already being ranked the worst and most audacious terror attack in American history.

– New York Times: September 12, 2001

Osama bin Laden, the mastermind of the most devastating attack on American soil in modern times and the most hunted man in the world, was killed in a firefight with United States forces in Pakistan, President Obama announced on Sunday.

– New York Times: May 1, 2011

I am writing about the terrorist attacks of 9/11, because I was going to post my next Czech’n entry, and realized what day it was I was posting, and felt this was more important. I believe it is important to take the time to address the incident properly, for I did not want to write about the terrorist attacks of 9/11 if I was not going to do it justice in my considerations, therefore my Czech’n post will come tomorrow.

I included the above epigraphs because they regard the language surrounding this tragedy, which is the most relevant lens I can think of to consider the incident on this blog.

I was just young enough when the attacks took place (being 7 years old) that I don’t really remember hearing the news or knowing what the news even meant. To me, 9/11 was something that I grew up with. Years ago, someone once said to me that my generation never knew a world without 9/11 and the subsequent consequences. I realized that this is true: I have no memory of airports before the heightened security measures, bin Laden has always been synonymous with terrorist, not ally, but perhaps most of all, in the last 13 years, I have never once – not once – gone on an airplane and at some moment not have the thought cross my mind, that this flight might never land safely. Indeed, for the first couple years after the attacks, I would sit rigidly in my seat, terrified that the captain was plotting to fly us into a building, or maybe into the ocean, not understanding at the time that the captains had nothing to do with the terrorist attacks.

What I have a good deal more memory for, is the confrontation and killing of Osama bin Laden. I remember that morning clearly: I was sitting down to my usual waffles and eggs, and my dad telling me the news. At first I just said ok, and started eating. A few minutes later I processed what he had said, and suddenly disengaged from breakfast. When I got to school, naturally the whole place was buzzing with the news. Our country had spent a decade searching for this monster, and in one night, without even knowing we were close, we were told he was dead. It sparked discussions in every single one of my classes, but most particularly in my American Studies joint English/History class and my Journalism class, which is where I was first introduced to the language regarding the attack in the newspaper lede on Sept. 12, 2001.

Clearly 9/11 is a turning point in American History, and perhaps the most essential event to shape the millennial generation’s lives. But I find the idea that kids being born now will only relate to the event through a history textbook (or e-textbook, as the case very well may be) rather distasteful, to put it extremely mildly. It was an event that twisted and bent and destroyed peoples’ lives, families’ lives, in much the same way that it destroyed those buildings in a plume of ash, fire, glass, and molten steel. Families were torn apart, and the escalation of fear and hatred rose to unprecedented levels (from a single event I should add) and it demonstrated to the US and the world at large the terrible power that terrorism holds and why the luxury of freedom should be guarded with great vigilance.

My heart goes out to friends and strangers who have directly been affected by those events 13 years ago. To those who sacrificed their lives for the price of living in freedom, you have the nation’s grief and to those of you who willingly place themselves into the line of fire to continue defending that freedom, you have the nation’s unending gratitude. Given that my semester abroad is devoted entirely to nation and art, and how the arts have socially changed a country, I think it highly appropriate to close this post with a reflective comic that I remember quite vividly from the very first time that I saw it.

Until Next Time,

Joe