A Brief Message on 9/11

“Everyone remembers where they were on that fateful day.”

I’ve heard these words many times. And yet, I belong to a tiny minority of people whom it does not apply to. As an American who was around during 9/11, I do not recall the events of that day. I was 12 ½ months old, and while I’ve been told about what happened in my family on that day, I have no way of knowing for myself.

When I see 9/11, I don’t see the rock that was thrown into the pond, but I do see its ripples. So even though I have no recollection of that day, no feelings that are original to me, I still hear its echoes bouncing around America to this day. And sadly, the echoes are growing fainter…

The legends that I’m told are that Americans were bound to one another like no other time in living history. I’m told of heroes who rushed back into the collapsing building, and I’m told that there are stories we will never hear because the people who experienced them did so to their last breath. I’m told that the whole world looked on in horror as the Twin Towers crumbled to the ground.

But then I look up from the history books, and what do I see? The memory of two towers standing strong while the people are united to never let it happen again? No, that’s not what I see.

I see two towers, that is true. But they’re fighting tooth and nail, each looking for its own survival at the expense of the other’s. They stab and they twist, they lie and they deceive, and soon they’ll crumble to the ground and a sad pile of ash and rubble will be all that remains.

But what about on the ground? What of the onlookers? Are there heroes to be found? They are far and few between.

The people who once locked their arms together on this day two decades ago now find themselves armed against each other like the nation has never seen before. Every citizen, once peace-loving, now walks down the streets armed to the teeth in weapons they can hurl against their enemies, slander, deceit, insults, lies, accusations, and blame, all while the pillars of our society, truth and freedom, burn to the ground with none to mourn them.

A year and a half ago, I looked back to the picture of the Twin Towers, the one implanted in my mind by those around me that told of heroes and bravery and unity through tragedy. And when I lowered the picture and looked into the fog that was blowing in from Wuhan, I hoped that on the other side I would find a stronger America, our bonds forged by hardship. As we approach our second winter, I find myself choking not on the smog but on the aerosol, and to my horror I look around and the people who bleed the same blood as I are ripping each other apart, more divided and hurt than they were before the disaster. Families are being ripped apart, mother against daughter, and those who I once called friend claw at my skin as they tear away from my grip. My fear is that not only are we watching the collapse, but that the spirit of unison that once kept us alive has now itself died.

But just because the heroes are far and few between doesn’t mean that they are gone entirely. Somewhere, in the corners of our nation, forgotten by the rest of our society, you will find the poor, the mourning, the gentle, the righteous, the merciful, the pure, the peaceful, the beaten, and the slandered, and they are joyful. Those are the heroes, the ones who will rush into the chaos and save the day, who will rebuild, who will inspire, who will forgive, who will heal, who will love. Look closely, you will see them working.

“Everyone remembers where they were on that fateful day.”

I don’t have the pleasure of remembering. So don’t commit the crime of forgetting. Be the hero America needs right now.

-Tyler