On my way home from the vigil I listened to public radio. They played excerpts from the 9/11 Commission hearings. One recording I listened to was This entry was posted in Humanities, Social Science on .
6 thoughts on “The Day After Tomorrow”
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Hi Kathryn, thanks for sharing your memories of 9/11, and what it means to you. I was living in Malaysia at the time, and seeing the images on the news that day was one of the most profoundly moving and significant events I’ve ever experienced. Grief, shock and horror prevaded my mind for days, and like you, I seemed to be surrounded by people who were far less affected by it all, for whom life seemed to go easily on. Reading your lines, especially ‘just remember, please remember’ brought tears back to my eyes.
I don’t know why 9/11 has affected me so, of all the horrors of our world? I still do not know. I too saw people falling to their deaths, and am still profoundly moved by the images, whenever they return to my mind.
I pray that beings will put out the fires of anger in their hearts, and learn that we all seek happiness, we all wish to be safe, secure, and well. We are all the same in that respect.
best wishes to you in the Dharma,
Karmadungyu
I was listening to Bob Edwards on NPR (before those ageist twits ran him off the air, but that’s a different polemic) at probably close to the same time you were. He originally mentioned that it was a small plane, or something to that effect. I can still remember the uncertainty in his voice as he processed the incoming information and it became clear the situation was far more grave than anyone initially suspected.
I too felt like I was carrying a disproportionate share of grief for my colleagues. I remember bitching out my manager, who gave me flak for not attending a meeting that day. I remember walking around in a daze, almost catatonic, for at least two or three days.
I had a massage scheduled for the afternoon of 9/11/01 (a scarce bit of serendipity in the world on that day). On the way there I heard KUT’s John Aielli play Pat Metheny’s “Travels” (from Trio 99-00), a poignantly beautiful, sad tune. I lost it, pulled over to the side of the road, and cried and cried.
The management of my downtown office building has chosen today to conduct their annual building-wide fire drill and evacuation, to be followed by a 9/11 remembrance ceremony. Part of me is a little disgusted at the obvious attempt to leverage the tragedy to garner compliance with the drill.
Karmadungyu: I, too, remain puzzled over why this event among all has impacted me. I’m well aware terrible things happen — terrorist attacks, natural cataclysms, industrial disasters (thinking of Union Carbide’s chemical event in India 1984) — and yet this one is the touchstone. I was also thinking (after I wrote this post) about the fine line between honoring the dead/wounded and morbid rubbernecking in hindsight. Much of the media hype feels like the latter to me, especially if used for political or commercial purposes, or to force compliance with a drill (such as my brother stated in his comment). Your last sentence, the prayer you hold, reminded me of a quote that I’ll post tomorrow. Thank you.
Tony: I remember an email from you that you were struggling too, and it was a comfort to know someone who understood. The hallmark song for me is “Dante’s Song” from Loreena McKennet’s album The Book of Secrets. (I think you may have that album?) It’s a very elegiac song. I’d put the CD in my car a couple of days prior, and when I played it that afternoon, I too lost it. And I know of the Metheny song you mention. Amazing how music can pierce us so deeply.
I am acutely aware of the anniversary and the tension and the sadness has been ratcheting up all week. My co-workers seem to be oblivious, no one touches the subject. It must be on their minds, for pete’s sake I work in the news business!
I’m sure I’m not alone. They just choose to not go there. Basically I feel my co-workers are in a state of overload. It’s as if we’re suffering from post traumatic stress disorder by proxy. We didn’t experience the trauma but we witnessed it. A new level of victimization.
The Russian tragedy just made things worse. I’m so unsure of where to put these images. How do you wrap your mind around such a thing?
Thanks for allowing me the forum to talk about this issue. It’s been bothering me all week.
I was driving to work and listening to KGSR, the Kevin and Kevin morning show. I was crossing over the river. I don’t recall their exact words because my mind became a blur; they did know it was a jet that had struck the first Tower. I became physically ill, sick to my stomach.
When I made it to work we turned on a tv. All the students and teachers huddled around it and watched in disbelief, each reacting in his/her own way. I don’t think I could sort out my emotions to explain them now. It was too huge to comprehend. I remember feeling as if I’d had an out of body experience – looking down on myself going through the motions, but having no control and feeling as if it weren’t really me.
I regret that we decided to teach our classes that day. We should have sent the students home, but all of us seemed too numb to be able to make that decision. The tv was on all day, sitting on a table in our darkened back classroom. Between classes and on other breaks there was someone there watching, but more often it sat alone, telling its horrifying tale over and over. This image haunts me as I think about how we pretended to go on with our lives that day while so many had lost theirs.
Too much that day and in the next few I watched the news reports and cried, sobbed. I could not tear myself away. I felt somehow the least I could do was cry for them.
I understand what others here have said about those around them not feeling it in the same way. I recall sending an e-mail to a friend about how upset I was and how it had impacted my sleep, my mental health, my focus at work. She wondered, oddly I thought, if I had known someone in any of the attacks who had died, as if this might be the only reason to grieve.
Lynn, thank you for sharing your recollection. It is poignant, in more ways than one: since I lived in Austin until so recently, I feel the connection with you as you describe your memories. Perhaps a sad point at which to have connection, but it’s precious nonetheless.
Suzanne, you are welcome here. You make an excellent point about PTSD by proxy. And yes, when I learned of the events in Russia, my heart hurt. I don’t know that there’s a place big enough in us to put such knowledge. Perhaps that’s the appeal of community — that each of us carries a part of the burden.