Moving on after Ten Years (9/11)

9/11 is one of those formative moments for a culture.  Anyone conscious enough to remember can tell you exactly where s/he was when hearing about the planes that hit the World Trade Center and then where s/he was when they fell.  


I was driving over the Verrazano Bridge into Brooklyn.  I was driving with my father and my sons to stay with my parents for the Hagim.  Sean was leaving that morning for Mountain Warfare Training Camp with the 2nd Marines.  We were supposed to stop at Dover Air Force Base for the night, but I wasn't tired, and had decided to push on.  


The Belt Parkway is known for traffic, and I tuned to 1010Wins for the report.  Within seconds of turning on the radio we heard about the first plane.  A marketing rep for 1010 lived near the towers and saw the plane hit.  She immediately called into the station, and they put her on the air.  No one believed it was a airliner.  They kept asking, "Are you sure it was a full-sized plane?"  


The Belt Parkway had a beautiful view of the NYC skyline, and in a few minutes we could see the smoke pouring from the north tower.  I am grateful to a large stand of reeds that blocked our view of the towers when the second plane hit.  As soon as we heard the news of the second plane, it was clear this was a terrorist act.  We drove on, waivering between  numbness, horror, and fury.  On our way home we stopped to buy food, as we were unexpected.  At our stop we shared our sorrow with everyone we met.  


Once home, I tuned into the news.  We watched as the towers fell, too horrified to turn away.  


Sometime after the north tower fell, Jesse came to me.  "Eema, can we watch some of my shows now?"  Pulled from my stupor, I realized the terrorists had accomplished more than destruction.  They had forced America to stop, if only for a moment.  Key to triumph over their hate is our ability to go on, to keep moving, and for the better.  Jesse and I watched Sesame Street that morning.  It's a wonderful show Sesame Street.  It understands that people are different.  We come from different backgrounds, different races, different cultures, but rather than fear or hate these differences, we can embrace them, share and learn from them, and be better because of them.


Today, that young boy is still insightful, and still often when he does not realize it.  He is a high school student, and has created a fictional world where peacekeeping means something real.  He searches for a world that embraces that lesson from Sesame Street, a world filled with respect and awe for all our wonderful differences.  I pray someday we will see it.