Today is September 11. A date most of you reading remember well. It’s burned on our brains.
I’ve written about 9.11 in the past. In a way I feel it’s my responsibility to. Time flies by so quickly and things change so much. In the days after 9.11 I remember hearing people talk about if they should let their kids watch the coverage – was it too scary? Would it give them nightmares? Consider those kids – most five and six years old – are now 17, 18 years old.
I remember leaving my client’s office, not sure of what I was seeing on their TV but knowing I needed to get back to my office, my family, to find out. I called my dad on the way back to let him know. He wanted me to keep him posted because they didn’t have Internet where he was working. That was 12 years ago. No social media. Limited Internet. The speed (or lack of) at which news traveled amazes me.
I remember my wife and I going straight to our friends’ apartment and ordering in some food, mainly because no one wanted to be alone that night. A feeling that was confirmed when I stopped at Rocknes to pick up our dinners—the place was packed. People gathered around the bar like it was the Super Bowl. Everyone wanted to watch was happening, unfolding, but were a little afraid to do so alone. I think that sentiment exists today – but with social media we’re never alone. Would the need for human interaction have been as strong if we knew we could just jump on twitter or facebook? Hard to say.
I remember a lot about that day – every detail to be exact. I remember being nervous about my wedding, which was a month away. I remember being terrified at the thought of bringing kids into this world some day. I remember seeing the world in a much different light. I remember staying up all night glued to CNN. I remember going to work the next day because, well, what else was I going to do? I remember thinking everything was going to change.
I remember because we shouldn’t forget.