20 years. What do 20 years do to one’s memory? Why are some things so crystal clear and other things, fuzzy? As Julien Baker said: “Sometimes I think I needed to do that, to really just kick around in the wreck and the gross stuff and really see what was there instead of trying to ignore that it existed.”
So let’s kick around in the wreck. September 11, 2001 (aka 911) is as clear to me as that beautiful, early September morning filled with clear blue skies in Gotham. We lived there then.
We heard about “it” on the radio at work but thought the DJs were pulling our leg. Typical prankster stuff. Then, we looked directly south, out of our building from the 30th floor. Straight down that wee island to see the due torri smoking. Then, their tumbling, tumbling 10-second fall. There were tears mixed with fear and just a quiet stagger. Are we at war we asked ourselves? It turns out, we were, and it was only the beginning.
After “it” happened, we walked 12 miles from work to get home through a surreal and stunned city. It was devastating. It was shocking. It was a wake-up call. Yes, we were not liked by our neighbors. Yes, we were vulnerable. Yes, we were turning a corner.
Many perished with over 1,000 who still remain unidentified. Many were named heroes. Those bagpipes...Many families were devastated. Many remembered our united compassion in everyday gestures among those sticky city streets. But we, our city, somewhat recovered, albeit with scars and scratches all over. Our country, on the other hand, did not and has not. In an attempt to “never forget,” our nation created catastrophic missteps in what our then-president called, “the freedom agenda” resulting in disastrous outcomes for Iraq and Afghanistan.
But I won’t dwell on that. I will focus on that day, and the weeks after, when time truly stood still for some of us living in the big apple. It changed our worldview forever. Immediately after, there was shock. We were shocked that someone could take an everyday thing—something that transports you to other places—and turn it into a bomb essentially. We were shocked that those iconic buildings could crumble so easily. We were shocked that more people didn’t die—maybe the hijackers miscalculated New Yorkers in that most don’t get to work before 9 am and that day, was a primary election in the city. We were shocked that the city that never sleeps went ghostly dormant for months.
Weeks, months and now years after, there was change. “It” changed everything. We invented a new heightened security across every sector of society. New York redesigned itself and many looked to neighboring boroughs to spread towards like Queens, Brooklyn, and Jersey. Right at that time, and for a few years after, the music coming out of NY was the soundtrack of our lives, and seeing bands like Interpol, the Strokes, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs in small clubs helped us forget. The Yanks made it to the World Series but just couldn’t pull off that win that we so desperately needed.
But time moves on and we promised we would “never forget.” But never forget exactly what? I never totally understood when my parents talked about how they knew exactly where they were when they heard about JFK’s assassination. On that morning, September 11, 2001, at 8:52, I will forever remember where I was when those DJs said, “we are getting information that a commercial airline has just hit the north tower about 5 minutes ago.” By 9:03 a second plane hit the south tower. One hour and 45 minutes later, those forbidding towers and all the souls in it, around it, and staring it at were a memory that we can’t forget—playing back in our mind as a series of images with William Basinski’s Disintegration Loops running in the background. 20 years later.