9/11

I wasn't going to write about the fifth anniversary of 9/11. I'm not trying to pretend it didn't happen, but public grieving isn't my style.

But today, it's everywhere I turn. It's hard to avoid, isn't it? Every mention in the news has been all about what we were doing, how we felt, and whether or not we've recovered.

Rightly so, I suppose. Yes, it was a national tragedy — one of epic proportions. I watched, along with the rest of the country, in stunned silence as the events unfolded. Like everyone, I remember where I was — home with a 2-year-old — when I heard the initial reports on the radio. An accident with a small plane, I assumed; then, naively, I hoped no one was hurt. Then when I heard about the second one, I thought briefly that it was a strange and macabre coincidence.

I was glued to the television for much of the next several days. All the same, I wondered when our life would return to normal. Because it always does. We don't quite forget, but we move on, at some point as if nothing ever happened.

And I remember Alison's reaction, her concern that I was too involved, too caught up in the news reports. She so desperately wanted me to move on. So I did — for her, and for all children. We can't dwell on the negativity too long or we get mired in the mess, unable to extricate ourselves and return to any sense of normalcy.

Like any proper tourists in New York, we visited Ground Zero. It was three years later, 2004, when we were there, so it was no longer a disaster scene so much as a construction site. Yet we knew, when we stood there, what had happened. We took pictures, but not out of disrespect. It was more about remembering what had happened and the gravitas of the events that day.

My friend Amy blogs, and she wrote this about New Yorkers and their reaction. And I agree with her. Why must they feel that they have to "own" this tragedy? Did the people of Oklahoma City react this way? Weren't we all affected?

Why does any of us feel that we must have a piece of such a thing? Years ago, when Jeffrey Dahmer was arrested, someone had to ask Gary, "Isn't that the same area where you lived in Milwaukee?" Well, yes, but years before. And just because it was the same city, same general neighborhood, it doesn't give him an instant connection. But what if it did? Does it make people somehow feel more a part of the action because they knew someone who was there?

Strange, these human tendencies to want to feel a part of a notorious event. Is it compulsion? Maybe.

In any event, so much for not writing about this day. But I guess I'm just doing what we all must: staking my claim on a piece of history.