SEPTEMBER 11

September 11, 2001. 

One of those moments in history which everyone will be able to tell you where they were when the twin towers in Manhattan, New York, came under terrorist attack.

I was living at Stone Manor.  I had just bought a house in Broadford with Charlie-Albert, and we were waiting for settlement.  So, I was killing time with the rents.

I was asleep in bed when my phone rang.  It was by bffl, Marika. 

‘Turn the telly on! Turn the telly on! You won’t believe what’s happening!’ she yelled.

‘Why? What the fuck has happened?’  I said, still in the fading embrace of sleep.

‘A plane has flown into the Twin Towers!’

‘What twin towers?  What the fuck are you talking about?’

‘In New York! A jumbo jet has flown into one of the towers, and it’s on fire!’

Are you fucken kidding me?  A jumbo?  How the fuck did a jumbo get that close to the city?  ‘Isn’t it a no-fly-zone over cities?’ I asked, staggering into the lounge, fumbling for the remote in the dark.  The oldies were in bed, and I didn’t want to wake them by turning on every light in the house.

‘Yes! The reports are saying it’s a terrorist attack!’

‘A what?’ I asked, as the telly blinked into life, illuminating the room, and making me wince from the sudden brightness.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.  There was the Manhattan skyline, the twin towers standing proud, but one of them was blazing about three quarters of the way up, smoke billowing over Manhattan.

Again and again they showed scratchy, amateur footage of a plane flying into the building.  Then, as we were watching, a second plane hit the other tower.

What the fuck was going on?

I started crying, I couldn’t believe it.  It was 9am in lower Manhattan.  The offices would have been full of people, settling in to start their day at work.  What in God’s name was going on?

Ten years later, I look back at that day with great sorrow.  No matter your station in life, you cannot help but be affected by what happened to all of those innocent people that day.

I recall Charlie-Albert ringing me the next day, saying that he was watching it in the car dealership whilst he was waiting for his vehicle to be serviced.  At that time, I was sitting on the couch with my boss, watching it all unfold on CNN.  Forget work! History was unfolding before our very eyes.  The horror of it all was riveting.

For a lot of people, and really, this goes without saying, there was life pre-9/11 (as it’s become known now), and life post-9/11.  Their lives have been defined by the pivotal change that this single day bought about.

For me, I had never experienced anything like this before.  I’m of an era that has never experienced a war, never experienced a depression and food rationing, never experienced an act of terrorism, never known starvation or famine, never lived through violent, political unrest and has never lived during a time where a significant political leader has been assassinated.

Like most of the people reading this, I have lived a simple, peaceful existence, blissfully ignorant to any international, political unrest or misfortune.  Quite frankly; I’d been living with my head fair and squarely up my arse.

So had the majority of the people in the Twin Towers, too.  Their deaths were the innocent by-product of something much bigger, and much more sinister than we care to think about.

Before 9/11, I didn’t really know what a Muslim was, nor did I really understand what terrorism was.  For me, terrorism was something that happened in Ireland between the IRA and someone else.  I’ve no idea who.  It was out of sight and out of mind.

I didn’t really know anything about the Middle East, except perhaps an understanding that a majority of the world’s oil comes from there.

I didn’t know that those very same Middle Eastern countries absolutely despised western civilisation.  Despised it to their very core. 

That was all before 9/11.  Everything changed after that.  The world stood up and took notice, and these same Middle Eastern countries were suddenly taken very, very seriously.  Those that’d been written off as insignificant, backward, third world countries, effectively exposed themselves as not only a physical threat, but an incredibly well connect and well-funded one.

How brilliant was their plan?  They infiltrated American society, trained as pilots, lived amongst them, and through extensive planning, turned against the US in one of the most violent acts of terrorism this planet has ever seen. 

Let’s not forget the plane that crashed into the Pentagon, or the one that came down in the fields of Shanksville.  Their impact is no less significant, but often overlooked against the devastation of the Twin Towers.

So, the US strikes back.  Revenge in the name of justice, freedom and democracy.  The war that has raged there for 10 years is completely justifiable.  Apparently.  Forget that this war has possibly cost more lives, both military and civilian, than the total people lost on 9/11.  It’s completely justifiable, for it’s in the pursuit of justice, freedom and democracy.  Apparently.

I wonder how the innocent Muslims living in Afghanistan feel about that.  They have a war they didn’t seek, being raged on their front door steps, just like the people of 9/11 did.  They have lost loved ones in this battle, just like 9/11 victims did.  Maybe they too are a by-product from the fall out of this destructive day.  Maybe the list of the dead is not just confined to those that perished on US soil on September 11, 2001.

I wonder if the families of those that perished in the Twin Towers, or the Pentagon, or in that field in Shanksville, felt justified when US troops killed Osama Bin Laden.  Was the price that the innocent paid in his pursuit worth it?

Who cares?  They’re only Muslims, right?  Pffft. 

No; they’re people, just like us.  Some innocent, some not so.  Just like us. 

Just think: if this slight on American soil had not happened, we wouldn’t even look twice at Muslims now, would we?  Maybe this incident highlighted a potential threat (a threat we’re told exists) to light?

However, like we westerners, there are the innocent amongst the Muslims.  They can’t be held responsible for the actions of a few of extremists.  We would demand not to be.

What a horrible day 9/11 was.

In my mind, I can still see the planes smashing into the buildings, the explosions, and the people on the streets fleeing in terror.  I can still hear the commentator on CNN saying very calmly ‘and there it goes…’ as the first tower slowly concertinaed and collapsed into the streets hundreds of floors below. 

What sticks most in my mind, are the images of people jumping from the buildings.  Did you know that 200 people took their lives that way? Trapped, with no alternative, they chose a quick and relatively painless death than the one that the raging flames or a crushing building could offer.  One single step, silent prayers to God thanking them for their lives, their loved ones and everything they had, before they perished.

How terrible. 

I wonder if I would do the same thing.  I think if I knew, with no uncertainty that my fate was upon me, I would simply pray for it to be quick and painless.  What else could I do?

I am, in no way, connected to 9/11.  I do not know anyone that perished in the buildings or the planes.  I don’t know anyone that had a narrow miss.  I don’t know anyone that survived or was pulled from the rubble.  I don’t even know anyone that lives and works in New York or Manhattan, nor have I ever been there. 

Though, somehow, I feel connected.  I feel connected to the shock, to the horror, and to the sorrow of it all.  Yes, even though I witnessed the entire thing unfold from the safety of my parents lounge room that night, I feel connected.

And still do 10 years later.

I watched a documentary the other night; ‘The Children of 9/11’.  I don’t know if you saw it, but it was about children who had lost their parents on that day.  3000 kids lost their parents that day.  From people that worked in the buildings, to the NYPD and the NYFD, these children were the ones left to deal with it all.

Even though their parents are gone, time doesn’t stop for them.  It just goes on, and day in, day out, they carry the pain of it all.  Then, once a year, it’s all bought to the surface again.  Then somehow, they’re expected to be normal.

Whilst we focus on them, I wonder about the innocent Muslims out there that carry the blame for this atrocity, in which they took no part.  For the rest of their lives, they will battle their beliefs and the public conviction against them, all due to the acts of an extreme few.

I wonder what’s worse: living with the loss of a loved one, or being publicly branded and hated for something you didn’t do. 

10 years later, and life has moved on, but now we’re more… aware.  We know that there are forces out there that are greater than us, and wish to make an impact, irrespective of the cost.  That there are deep, political games of chess being played on a daily basis, and we are but the pawns.

And you know what they say about pawns; they’re expendable.

So, I wonder if it will ever end.  One strikes out, and the other strikes back.  One strikes out again, and so it goes on.  Until there is nothing left?

If anything, 9/11 should have taught us to stand together as one, and that hatred is not the answer.  Seeing so many people put their differences aside to survive that terrible day, should be proof enough that peace through unity can be achieved.

However, what it has taught us, is that no matter how much love you have for your fellow man, there is always someone out there set to destroying it.

So, we take each day as it comes, and remember to love one another, and pray that nothing like this ever tarnishes our existence again.

To the lost, to the heroes and to the innocent of the day, lest we forget 9/11.

Peace out