9/11: The New JFK Assassination

In a sense, 9/11 has become the new JFK assassination, in that everyone seems to remember exactly where they were and what they were doing at the time it occurred. It seems to be a cultural phenomenon for people to want to in some way tie themselves into the experiences that have shaped this nation by relating the circumstances by which they found out about them. And, needless to say, the events leading up to the 9/11 attacks are likely etched into the minds of each U.S. citizen, due to the earthshaking event with which they coincided.

I remember being in study hall, in 9th grade, at Oconomowoc High School in Wisconsin. As I walked through the library's heavy double wooden doors, I could already tell something of some import was happening, as a large group of people, both students and librarians, were clustered around a TV. I remember that I walked closer and asked what was going on at the same time I saw the image of a skyscraper onscreen, burning and belching black smoke. It seemed such a foreign image to me. This is not to say that I had never seen a rendition of a destroyed building onscreen; I had seen innumerable action films in which buildings were obliterated by the dozens, and had thought myself fairly desensitized to the image of large scale devastation. However, there was something so strikingly different about seeing it in what I knew to be a nonfictional news broadcast that I felt my insides grow cold. Someone must have filled me in on what they knew, and the newscast made it horrifically clear as to what had transpired. I'll never forget watching clip after clip of that jumbo jet striking the second tower, again and again, as if it were of a miraculous interception at an NFL game, rather than the instantaneous snuffing of hundreds of lives. It was replayed again and again, slow motion and everything.

The news of the attacks spread through the school like a shockwave, and by the next period, everyone seemed to know. I heard that some schools were let out early, but it was so late in the day by this time that ours wasn't. There were rumors that a student's relative or friend, or something had been in the trade center. There was no more learning that day; girls were crying, and everyone was buzzing about the attacks, the rumors of a strike of the Pentagon, and where they were when they found out. I remember that I felt the initial shock of knowing that the homeland had actually been attacked, and that it slowly blended into a dull anger against the perceived terrorist source. Like most of my classmates, my anger and outrage lasted some few months, but unlike some, it eventually faded as matters became more convoluted. I was never a supporter of the Bush administration, and had long found our nation's affairs in the Middle East suspect; I knew about the oil. Eventually I became entirely disillusioned with the so-called "War on Terror." How can you fight an idea with guns and bombs? And that's where I stand today.

There it is, my personal .2 cents worth, where I was and what I was doing at the exact moment I found out that over six thousand US citizens were killed in an attack that would kindle a war to kill over thirty thousand Iraqis to date.