I won’t go into details about where I was this day, 10 years ago. Because where I was doesn’t matter. I wasn’t here in NYC, I wasn’t downtown. I didn’t start working in the area until a few years after the towers were gone. But I remember the moment it hit me, how monumental this was- how poignant. I was still dating Kevin at the time, and we were wandering the streets on a Saturday. We happened to wander towards Ground Zero- at this time, there were still some temporary walls up, with pictures, cards, flowers and little mementos prayers for those lost. And I saw a bunch of tourists, finding the open spots through the “fence” to snap pictures of the rubble. At a certain angle, you could even see the open subway tunnel with rubble still inside and ragged wires hanging down. There was this one woman in particular, who kept getting closer, who kept moving around to get a “better” shot- and it was then that I flipped out. Flipped out hard. I started screaming at the tourists; calling them heartless disgusting bastards. I screamed about how people died there and how dare they come to my city and take PICTURES of this. I screamed that this shit wasn’t a tourists attraction, how this wasn’t something fun to go back to west bubba fuck and share with friends and family. This…was not entertainment. And I went to reach for this woman, to break her camera. To break all their cameras. Other people on the streets stopped to stare, people were whispering, some laughing- but I didn’t care. I was so offended on behalf of all of those people who lost their lives. I was offended that this woman and those other camera holders didn’t seem to respect the horror of what happened. Kevin, the punk that he was (but also had a point because some officers were coming over), pulled me away. Telling me to please calm down. I continued to scream down the street, with him having to forcibly drag me away. And once we were no longer in the area, I complained until we got home…
Years later, as in a week ago- I woke up to a 9-1-1 special. I’ve watched them before, every year since they began showing them. But for some reason, I always catch the technical ones- about the planes themselves, about the mechanics of the two towers and why they collapsed how they did. I’ve seen interviews with Fire Fighters and some survivors. But I have never seen the ones where people were falling off of the buildings. I had just woken up from a nap, so I wasn’t really computing what I was seeing. My comprehension cleared up as a witness describes a man who had somehow managed to make a sort of rope to climb down the side of one of the towers. As he spoke, footage was being shown. You could see the building shaking a bit and the rope swinging a little, but still the man climbed down. And suddenly…his hands slipped and he fell to his death. I have NEVER seen this. In 10 years, I’ve managed to somehow avoid this moment- when I saw that, I immediately burst into tears. I was horrified. This man, who was making an effort to save his own life, lost it. Because his hands slipped. For some reason, I felt that because he was trying so hard, he’d make it. That somehow some miracle would happen and he’d have been saved- illogical, yes. But that’s what I thought. But no. Much like a lot of people that day, he was just another person who died terribly. I couldn’t stop crying for over 30 mins. My father had to console me. He hugged me for 10 mins straight while I continued to sob about this man. I had to change the channel, and I refused to watch anymore specials on Sept. 11th after that. Even now, there’s some on and I wont watch them because I’m afraid to see that man again.
I can be a pretty cold sometimes. I’m not very forgiving. I’m angry. I don’t have problems punching someone in the face, or advocating shanking; when someone personally offends me. But I will never understand this level of hate. I will never understand what would make a human being orchestrate the mass death of other human beings. I can’t contemplate how you can wake up one day, and decide hundreds of people you’ve never met have to die. Innocent babies who definitely had nothing to do with our politics as a nation. Who didn’t have a chance to ever do anything to anyone, let alone something that merited death. I will never understand this. And I’m glad that I don’t. I don’t ever want to be the kind of person who would do something like this. Who would be proud to have done this. It’s so evil, that I don’t think even Satan himself would’ve condoned this. Even he might have been like “woah. dude. really?”
Anyway, I can’t do anything about what happened. I’ve yet to build a time machine that works properly. But, I can try to promote peace. I can try to help Americans understand that Islam isn’t evil, that Muslims aren’t all bad. Just like I can share with Muslims that not all Americans are horrible and hate them. I don’t think violence met with violence really solves anything. It makes us feel better sometimes, to know that we’ve somehow been vindicated or avenged but it doesn’t solve the actual problem. It doesn’t stop the hate and the kind of mentality that motivated these attacks. I’m not sure anything will stop it, but I don’t have to perpetuate the cycle. And I can try to make sure the people who I know don’t do it either. I can love my Muslim friends. I can educate myself on Islam and it’s culture so that I understand and continue to understand that what happened on Sept. 11, 2001 was done by people who weren’t particularly religious- just crazy. Crazy and filled with loathing for human life. Even their own. I hope that people who are participating in acts of remembrance today, aren’t filled with hate. I hope that although they’re sad and miss their loved ones, they are promoting the ideas of love , peace, and understanding.
Ok. I’m done.
newboldtopia 