I was a newlywed, having just gotten married that June. We had planned to delay our honeymoon till that October; I can’t remember the exact reason for it, though. I lived only a few minutes from the computer repair shop that I used to work out and routinely was 5 minutes to work anyway. Another day, people whining about Windows 95 and 98 crashing, malware, same ole, same ole. My sister-in-law called and told us to turn on the TV that had a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. She’s always been a conspiracy theorist and tends to exaggerate. She was already yelling about terrorism and bombings.
I couldn’t quite wrap my head around what was going on. I turned on the 15 inch CRT TV we had in our bedroom as I was getting dressed. I can’t remember the network, but the morning show hosts were on the air with a shot of the north tower smoking. I stopped and stared, fixated on the screen. Just then, another plane appeared in the distance, and almost in slow motion, I watched a live feed of the second plane crash into the south tower. I was numb for a second, I thought this was a Hollywood movie, and I witnessed some good for its time CGI. I watched for another 20 minutes or so. My wife and I were shell-shocked. I eventually made it to work. I remember there being another TV on in the back room. Long before streaming on iPhones and Ipads, we had to either listen to the radio or watch TV on an actual TV set. Nobody felt like working. The rest of my workday was blank, but I remember thinking of my parents and reflecting on my childhood.
Early life
Before my birth, my parents lived and worked in NYC. My dad was studying Economics at the New School. For some reason, after getting their degrees in Mexico, Mexican economist students would go to The New School in NY for post-graduate work, and my dad was no different. As a kid growing up in Mexico, my earliest memories were watching New York Mets baseball and Knicks basketball. At the time, I didn’t know why; however, the Mets 1986 World Series run was one of the most exciting times in my life. It turns on that NYC had a lasting impact on my parents. My mom used to work in one of the towers. She would tell me stories of how she could look out her window and see clouds below her. Once, a daredevil was walking a high wire cable that he had strewn between the towers in some sort of stunt that became the day’s office distraction.
Immediately after
When I got home from work, I called my dad. This was before everyone had a cell phone, but I knew his routine. He would likely be sitting in the same seat he sat from 1977 to his death in 2003 and would have been smoking cigarettes, drinking coffee, and reading a book. His voice was crackly. He knew precisely why I was calling. We both felt like New Yorkers. Even though he only lived there for 2–3 years, New York never washed away. He carried a little bit of “New York City” with him for the rest of his life and often had a bit of NYC attitude to him. I can’t remember what we talked about on that phone call. The sound of his voice breaking up was distracting me from anything he was saying. He was such a tough old bastard; I can’t remember him ever crying. I knew he would have been upset but never expected to hear what I heard, the toughest guy I ever knew, audibly distraught with a lack for words.
My wife was a researcher at the Austin American Statesman at the time. Her regular hours were in the mid-morning or early afternoon till about 9 or 10 pm, however that day, a call went out….all hands on deck. We must have exchanged email during the day, long before text messages; this was the digital communication we had available. She called me and told me all the rumors of the day. The most outlandish was that Austin was a target, and a plane had been intercepted and headed toward the Texas capital. Nobody knew anything; the entire country was concerned.
As the days went on, the country turned angry but united. We were angry that someone dared to do this to us on our soil. We were angry that they used our institutions and planes to kill regular people who looked like you or me that were going about their day. About a week later, Dave Letterman came back on with a very somber monologue. He was visibly shaken. He did a fantastic job at being serious yet playful and seemed to recognize his responsibility as a comedian and entertainer. If he was angry, which he most certainly was, he did an excellent job of not letting rage take over.
On the other hand, President Bush and especially our Vice President spoke in the days and weeks following the attacks with passion and vitriol about what we were planning to do to our enemy. It seemed like the right feeling to have. The country was virtually united at the time; we expected to send our finest fighting forces to whatever cave Osama Bin Laden was hiding, drag his out and shoot him in the head. That’s what justice felt like to us. Little did we know at the time that a massive over-correction was about to take place, the likes of which we are still suffering from today.
Fast forward to October. We’re going to go on our honeymoon. We were to fly into San Francisco, rent a car and drive down the Pacific Coast highway stopping in Carmel, Santa Cruz, and Monterey. On our flight out, just a little over a month after 9/11 we had no idea what to expect when going through the airports. In the days after, we were daily reports of the terrorists’ MOs, such as sneaking box cutters onto the planes as weapons, so we expected a slower security process, and we weren’t wrong. I remember the TSA agent asking me to sip my coffee in front of her. I wasn’t sure why; the only thing I could think of was that it might be acid that I had planned to throw into a pilot’s face, and there’s no way I would drink it.
We had a layover in Denver. The terminals were packed. The tension was high. I remember staring daggers at an Indian man. I remember thinking, just make one move so I can beat your ass. To this day, I’m embarrassed about even having those thoughts. The flight to San Francisco was packed. I had a panic attack on take-off. I wanted to go to the bathroom to wash my face. A flight attendant came over to yell at me but I pushed him out of the way. I can remember him telling me I was in FAA violation of something I didn’t give a shit about. After washing my face, I made my way back to my seat. I could feel the entire flight staring at me. Wonder what they were thinking. Actually, I don’t think I want to know.
I could relax the rest of the trip and even enjoy it a little, but the return trip was just as bad. There had been an unattended bag at SFO, and airport had been evacuated before our flight back. When we got in, the lines were so long. I wasn’t even sure what line to get in. We just got in line and hoped not to miss our flight. I remember while standing in line, a Univision reporter asked me for a comment. I was wearing a Mexican soccer team t-shirt, I guess that’s how he identified that I spoke Spanish. I declined, as I was anxious about missing the flight, the large number of people at the airport, etc. If that were today, I would have gladly given him a sound bite, as I now know the pressure reporters are under and how their work has been devalued and disrespected over the past several years.
Months and Years after
As I stated earlier, a massive over-correction ensued. We sent troops into Afghanistan, presumably to capture or kill all of Al-Qaeda’s leadership. We rounded up hundreds of suspected terrorists, many of whom had no involvement in any terror organizations. We tortured the prisoners until they produced a link that President Bush and his cabinet were trying to so desperately create, which was a terror link between Osama Bin Laden and Saddam Hussein. I would follow the news periodically, always not knowing what was true or not true, but I was inclined to believe our senior leadership.
The controversial Patriot Act was drafted, and under the premise of “National Security,” was passed, although it large parts of it were unconstitutional.
The division grew over time; when Bush Jr. ran for re-election, much of the campaign revolved around entering the Iraq war, which senator had voted for it in Congress, which hadn’t. Although he won re-election, he lost the faith of the American public once we realized that not only had we entered Iraq on a flat-out lie, he committed war crimes against the Guantanamo prisoners we had captured. America likes to talk brag about how much better our values are than the the rest of the world, however we’ve proven over and over that we’re just as thuggish as anyone else, just better at concealing it.
Like most Americans, I was glad to see Dubya go and welcome a likable and charismatic Barack Obama to office. Not only was he the first black president of the United States, he brought a renewed ‘young’ energy to the white house.
He was good at saying the right things, but the change we had hoped for never came. Guantanamo prisoners were never either released or convicted; we never existed in Afghanistan but instead shifted our military strategy to increased drone strikes. Drone strikes lack accuracy, so they destroy much more than just the intended target. These strikes would destroy entire schools in Afghanistan, killed and injuring civilians and children. Obama would talk about how effective these were. They were effective in creating a new generation of Afghans that grew to hate the US occupation in their land and would turn to the Taliban. We were creating a new generation that hated America, all the while and I was oblivious to all of this. I’m torn about being ignorant about this. Our government has been lying to us for so long that we’ve become cynical about anything they tell us. Does that mean that it’s okay for me to tune out on what they tell us? I don’t know how I should feel, but that’s how I do. The Patriot Act stayed firmly in place; the NSA continued to expand, Homeland Security placed secretive Fusion centers in every city in the country. I’m not sure how widely reported on, but it was a recurring story line on “The Good Wife,” so there had to have been some level of awareness.
Then came the Trump administration. Trump took lying to a whole new level. Between rampant angry tweeting, belligerent ranting among a ton of other dysfunction, I think the best I can sum up my feeling of those four years was utter numbness.
Birth of Cynicism?
I recently re-watched Ken Burn’s excellent documentary on the Vietnam war. An interview with a Marine vet with terrible PTSD remarked that his government told him that the Vietcong were the enemy and asked him to join the military to kill the enemy. He quipped that he was probably the last generation that believed whatever his government told him. It turns out that he was not the last generation to believe his government. Shortly after 9/11, young men joined the armed services just to be lied to again. They were deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan. Presumably, the mission was to hunt down Bin Laden, but their mission was never apparent in reality. I’ve seen interviews with soldiers, many of them having the same feelings as did the Vietnam Vet, 40 years later, same shit. The most famous was Pat Tillman, an NFL player who gave up his football career to serve in the military, only to be killed and his death covered up.
How long can this government keep lying to its people before it’s populous loses complete faith in it? I wonder if we had a deadly virus circulating the planet 25 years ago if a large percentage of Americans would shun sophisticated, state-of-art vaccines in favor of a horse dewormer as medication. I literally can’t believe I just wrote this sentence, but I’m fairly confident this would never have been a ‘thing’ if it were 1999. I’m certainly no sociologist, but I’m sure that 4 administrations of spewing bullshit administrations have only made people bitter cynics. Outside of the moment when then-President Obama reported that a Seal Team had killed Osama Bin Laden, there have been very few moments of unity in this ever-increasing fragmented country.
Technology
When I reflect on how rapidly technology, especially consumer technology, has evolved in the last 20 years. I can’t help but think about the amount of footage and content we would have if everyone were carrying around supercomputers with high-definition cameras like we do now. We would have had live streams, the panic, and chaos exiting the buildings, probably even the trauma as the planes crashing through the buildings. Maybe it’s a good thing we don’t have any more content than we already do; perhaps it lessens some of the pain.
The People
I’ve seen countless documentaries over the years featuring interviews of both surviving first responders and those that have followed in the footsteps of the generation that were on the scene during the 9/11 attacks. Through their survivor’s guilt, PTSD, extensive medicals problems they now face, their resolve never waivers. Without exception, when each one was asked if they’d choose a different profession or do something differently, they each said emphatically, no. They took an oath to serve people and took it extremely seriously. If our politicians were half as resolute as firemen and first responders, we’d be in a much better place. Instead, they spend all day on social media making angry or deceitful posts, fleeing the country during a time of crisis, and making TV appearances whining about everything.
The voice of Orio Palmer was telling. Orio was a fireman that went into one of the towers that day. Google for him and listen to some of the radio communication between him and the station or truck. He’s calm, carrying heavy gear up flights of stairs. He passes a lot of bodies, but he keeps climbing. He’s one of the 1st to get up to the impact zone and does his best to save as many as possible. He doesn’t make it out. He’s a legend.
Some of the survival stories are beyond incredible. The story of Brian Clarke and Stanley Prainmath’s escape is genuinely unbelievable. I won’t tell it here, but please do a Google and Youtube search for their story. No screenwriter could ever come up with a story like that.
My heart breaks for the jumpers. Out of all the suffering and terror that day, the jumpers are the ones I feel for the most. I’ve tried to place myself in positions and just imagine their terror. Many don’t realize that, many in the building didn’t know what happened to them. Many likely died without even knowing that plane had hit their building. Those of us who were watching that morning understood, what was happening, but those in the building, who weren’t near a window, just knew their building was shaking massively and were instantly trapped. Many thought it was a bombing, and then they found themselves burning from the intense jet fuel. They had to scramble quickly, kick open some windows, and then make the worst decision anyone could have to make; how they want to die. I try to imagine all their feelings; they must have been shocked and in disbelief to find themselves in that predicament. Who would ever think that’s something they will have to deal with that kind of ordeal while at your place of business?
Conclusion
Change happens; typically, it’s gradual. The longer you live, the more change happens in your life. When you reflect on all the changes in your lifetime, you realize that it took years to get where you are now not so with 9/11. The world changed overnight. Our innocence was gone, overnight and its never coming back. Our way of life changed as well. Everything is more complicated than it was. Air travel, visiting government buildings, even sporting events. We all also became aware that we were all potential targets of terrorism. We’ve had the Boston Marathon attack, the London subway attacks, etc. and we’re no longer surprised. We’re naturally appalled, but we no longer have that initial shock we had during 9/11. We understand that this is the new normal, even it has been 20 years, but it’s still very fresh for many of us in many ways. I was talking to a friend of mine, maybe a year ago, and we were talking about a college buddy that because of the way he acts on social media and his look, that he’s surely on a ‘no-fly list’. This joke would not have made any sense on September 10th, 2001, but now we know what it means and what it implies.
I hear the term “Never Forget” every year on the anniversary, and only recently I’ve wondered what that means. Does it mean that we don’t forget that it happened? Do we not forget about the 3000 people that died that day? Do we not forget how badly our government responded by going to war with the wrong country and leading us into a 20 year, winless war? Do we never forget that although how divided we might be, it’s still possible to band together under times of great distress or turmoil? For me, I’ll never forget that day as it was the day that I felt like a grown-up. Although I survived the 1985 Mexico City Earthquake, 9/11 slapped me in the face. Suddenly, I realized that it was indeed possible that I could be killed in my place of business, worship, commerce for any reason whatsoever. It marked a decisive chapter in my life, and my innocence was gone. I like to never forget of the simpler times in my pre 9/11 life. I really miss those days, and I miss Letterman.
