I don't really want to say anything much other than the title of this post, just an acknowledgement of the 10th anniversary of that spectacle of horror. Though I didn't know a single person who died that day, no event in my lifetime -- outside the deaths of my own parents and one recent epoch of personal despair -- has come close to inspiring that level of sadness and anguish in me. And only recently have I begun to consciously understand how and why that should be the case, why my feelings constellated so uniquely and persistently around 9/11 (pictures I'd taken of the twin towers and of the Statue of Liberty from a trip in September of 2000 have been on my refrigerator for 10 years, to the point where my aunt was asking a few years ago if I was ever going to take them down.) Long before I knew it or even glimpsed how, the story of 9/11 was weaving itself into the narrative of my own life.
I invite anyone to share whatever memories or impressions or thoughts they have about that day in this thread. And here's hoping that we --mankind -- can permanently retain some residue of the best of what the tragedy elicited from us, which was an incredible outpouring of compassion and love and nobility and the conviction that, despite much evidence to the contrary, we are, indeed, made in the image of God.
10th Anniversary of 9/11
1Tony, his spirits crushed after b-lining to the fridge first thing in the morning: "Who ate the last piece of cake?"