Monday, September 20, 2021
9/11/2021
Its a strange thing to think back on a day 21 years ago, my freshman year in college. I remember waking up to go to an early morning class and waiting quite some time. No one else was coming and I wondered what was going on until one of the other students came in and explained that something was going on in New York. When I asked what had happened she said that a plane had hit the World Trade Center.
I stared at her in disbelief, and she turned on a nearby Television. Sure enough, there was one of the towers covered in smoke. I think by that point, the second tower had been hit, though I didn't see it at the time. I rushed back to my dorm. Almost everyone else was up and awake, gathered around the TV in our common room. The usually jovial and often animal house nature of the dorm was dead serious and silent. I watched the footage of the plane hitting the second tower and went into my own room to wake my roommate.
"Roberto, you got to get up." I hissed, shaking him. He stared up at me bleary eyed. I never disturbed him ever.
"Roberto, you got to get up." I hissed, shaking him. He stared up at me bleary eyed. I never disturbed him ever.
"What's going on?" He asked.
"Dude you gotta get up, we're under attack, it's like Pearl Harbor dude."
That equation to Pearl Harbor came easy that day to most of us. We spent the better part of the day watching the horrific pantomime of events as they played over and over. There was still one plane un-accounted for at the time, and we were afraid that it might be heading our way since there was a Department of Defense headquarters near our university located on the old Fort Ord.
That equation to Pearl Harbor came easy that day to most of us. We spent the better part of the day watching the horrific pantomime of events as they played over and over. There was still one plane un-accounted for at the time, and we were afraid that it might be heading our way since there was a Department of Defense headquarters near our university located on the old Fort Ord.
Someone else must have had that thought, because a moment later we heard tank treads and saw a huge anti-aircraft battery roll by our dorm and head up the hill to the DOD building. It stayed there for the next year.
Watching the collapse we all remarked how uniform it was, and some of us speculated about planned explosion, a theory that remains to some today. I thought at the time that it was meant to save other buildings from the towers collapse. Today, I have no idea, I am no engineer. What I do know was that it was horrific to watch. Though the events of that day were on the other side of the country, we lived that day as if we were there.
There were other things, people jumping from buildings, the struggle of flight 93. The strike on the Pentagon was terrifying because I thought if any place should be protected it was Washington DC. Apparently not. Above all else, I remember the ash, covering buildings, streets and people. It was like snow, plooming down in a cloud of death. It consumed all, like a hungry beast. That brings me to today, two weeks after he 20th anniversary of 9/11. Many other anniversaries have come and gone, and I was surprised how much the years had dulled my memory until I sat down and watched the footage again. I forgot how horrific it was. It made me queasy and sick. I've listened to the kids at work, and I've seen a book on 9/11 in a classroom. I wondered how they reflected on something that happened before they were born. Of course, they had no concept of it beyond it was a very bad thing that happened, just like I had when thinking of Pearl Harbor. Its strange to see a history I lived through now become the history that is taught. I'm not sure what to think about that. For me, each 9/11 from here on will be a display of terror and ash, of the feelings of a young man just starting his life away from home watching his country under attack. It will be the hope of a nearly 40 year old man and counting hoping no future generation never has to endure what I or others did that day. |
Wednesday, September 15, 2021
Trouble in paradise
It seems like every day I wake up to some terrible news filtering in from the world. Cable networks are full of it, a constant and consistent drum beat of terrible events and terrible situations near and far. It's gotten to the point that I stop listening to the news because I either hear diatribes or dire news. But all is certainly not lost, at least, that is the hope.
I am reminded of a visit to Lake Tahoe about Thanksgiving last year. At the time I was grappling with some issues related to my job. Covid was in full swing and years of lack of movement or promotion had piled one atop another like leaden blankets that threatened to suffocate me. The CO19 wasn't helping anything, and the same rote of cleaning rooms that were already clean was driving me nuts, so my family and I absconded to Tahoe as we often do.
The city we stay in was virtually empty, which was nice, and the weather was warmer than I was hoping (I wanted to see some snow and fall colors but this is California.) I decided to take a walk along the south shore and came upon the above sign. It was on the side of the Casino on a marquee and proudly proclaimed "Welcome back to paradise." The s in paradise had gone kilter.
I remember considering how nice the weather was, how lucky I was to be there even considering everything going on, "What a perfect analogy for how I feel. Trouble in paradise." It made me laugh and I took the picture because how could I not? It was just one of those funny little lifetime situations that's quirky enough to snap you out of your funk, while still maintaining the breadth of the situation.
So today, as I awake at 4 AM with troubled thoughts swirling in from a nighttime of bad news, I think of this sign and hope that maybe today will be better.
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