A few days ago the topic of September 11 came up during a conversation with a friend. “Can you believe it’s been eighteen years?” she said. “My grandchildren don’t remember it. The youngest one wasn’t even born.”
Few days live in infamy across our entire nation. Pearl Harbor, which was before my time. President Kennedy’s assassination. And September 11—we don’t even need to add 2001 when we say the date, because it is etched in our memories.
Calling it “Patriot Day” does not lessen the significance of the date. September 11 it will always be. Whenever I glance at a digital clock that reads “9:11,” I think of that Tuesday morning when bodies and debris, not raindrops, fell from the sky.
And yet, a whole generation has now come of age that does not remember the day, and most members of our newest generation were not born. The babies of 2001 have graduated from high school, and some of these young adults serve in the military in war zones resulting from that day. They serve, though they do not remember our sense of invincibility that was shattered that day.
Reflecting on September 11 brings a whole series of thoughts to my mind. In no particular order, here are some of them:
It is not a bad thing for Americans to feel vulnerable, to feel less isolated from the rest of the world, if the vulnerability brings humility. The United States has felt safe from predators beyond its boundaries for so long. We have frequently exercised our might to help ourselves and our friends stay safe from those who oppose us. The realization that we cannot solve all problems through force is a good thing. But I’m not sure the vulnerability we discovered on September 11 has taught us the lesson of humility.
Disasters can be blessings in disguise when we take opportunities to connect with those around us. With family and friends. And with strangers. I recently read The Day the World Came to Town, by Jim DeFede. It is the story of how people in and around Gander, Newfoundland, opened their hearts and homes to stranded airlines passengers forced to land there when U.S. airways were closed on September 11. For a few days, strangers acted as brothers and sisters. Similar stories of help from strangers abound in New York and D.C. and in many other places where communities came together during the emergency.
We have not kept that sense of community alive during the past eighteen years. In fact, our divisions seem to have increased—on political issues, on social issues, on local matters and national priorities. However, as a student of history, I know there has always been divisiveness in the American body politic. I’ve written a couple of posts on this topic before. See here and here. No matter how bad things seem today, things have probably been equally bad—if not worse—in the past. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t work to improve our society, to push for what we believe. But it does mean we should keep a sense of perspective and realize that those who feel differently than us do so for reasons they believe are right and just.
Thus, I end with a sense of optimism. Despite the anxiousness and hostility in today’s environment, I do not fear what lies ahead. I cannot get overly excited by gloomy scenarios coming from the left or from the right. I have my own opinions about the issues of the day, and I will voice my opinions at the ballot box and elsewhere.
But whatever course we steer, this nation, and its people, will survive what comes our way. At least for the foreseeable future. I know that, because most of the people who disagree with me would nevertheless support me in an emergency, as I would support them.
That’s what we have always done. And that’s what we will do again, should the need arise.
What thoughts do you have on the 18th anniversary of September 11?
