IT’S hard to believe the horror of 9/11 is now a decade ago. In The Guardian today, the tenth anniversary of the attacks on the Twin Towers in New York, a piece suggests that once we have paused to reflect on those terrible events it’s time close an era during which they were frequently recalled and questioned. Tell that to New Yorkers who had their city altered forever. Tell that to those who lost loved ones. Tell that to anyone who worked in the Towers that day or who walked past them in the street outside, but somehow by a freak of good fortune survived. These people will never forget; these people will never find closure.
Like most of us, I’m sure, the moment I heard the news is seared upon my memory. Just yesterday I happened to come across a very early blog post of mine which I wrote on the second anniversary in a vain attempt to temper the anger I felt then and which I still feel today. 9/11 changed the world forever, so how can we forget?
I remember it as though it happened yesterday. I must have had the day off work, because I came downstairs to switch on the TV for the lunchtime news and there it was right in front of me, right in my living room .... the full horror of it all. Those terrible images still haunt me now .... of the planes flying into the Twin Towers and coming out the other side. A millisecond later .... as if holding their breath for a moment .... the towers leant forward before crumbling into themselves and crashing down.
Over and over again the same pictures flashes across the screen .... like being stuck in some kind of surreal time warp .... while the news presenter tried his damnedest to keep the shock out of his voice, but not quite succeeding.
I stood transfixed with the remote dangling from my limp hand. My brain kept telling me that something like this simply couldn't happen. My eyes were showing me that it just had.
I visualised those poor people stuck in elevators, looking certain death straight in the face. Terrified office workers marooned on the top floors, desperately trying to call loved ones .... only to find the telephone lines dead.... realising they were going to end up the same way.
I imagined a young secretary, 19 years old .... let's call her Sara .... left on her own in an office in unfamiliar surroundings. She'd only started her job two days ago and was hoping to climb far up the career ladder. Then there was Jeff .... he was 24 .... just come back from his honeymoon in the Seychelles after getting married three weeks ago. Mary, an office administrator, was going to have a half day, because it was her 55th birthday and she was going to visit her daughter in hospital who had given birth to her first grandchild the day before. Richard, 65 on Friday, was looking forward to his retirement after having been in the same job for forty years. Jason had received the results of his accountancy exams in the mail that morning .... he'd passed with distinction. He'd practically bounced into the office an hour ago knowing he could look forward to blossoming in his profession. His hard work would be rewarded by a pay rise and promotion. Now he'd be able to afford that bright red Chevy convertible he'd dreamt about for so long.
Dreams dashed, hopes slashed. Now there was nothing left, but rubble and ashes. Hundreds buried alive, dying, dead ... and the Manhattan skyline .... well that would never be the same again.
©Carola Huttmann, 11 September 2003
11/09/11
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