I spent most of the day on Sunday, September 11, remembering. I watched some of the documentaries on what happened that day, because it’s important to know, so we can stop it from happening again.
I didn’t watch too much of any of the observances, the speeches, the tributes. Those are important, but I think I do that every day, by committing to protecting myself and my family. Before the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, my self defense commitment was spotty at best. Now, it’s every day.
The two things the TV shows and retrospectives and tributes couldn’t capture were the two things I felt the most on September 11, and in the days and months that followed.
The first was the incessant bombardment of what had happened. The American media doesn’t report any more, they beat us over the head with news events. After the first two hours, there seemed to be nothing new to report, yet the new outlets kept reporting it. Over and over. The same thing, all the time.
What could not be remembered, therefore, was the incessant stress and fear and worry we all felt, for the days and weeks and months after the attacks. Part of me is glad we can’t get that back, because it sucked to live like that.
The second thing I felt in those months after, was anger. When I think about the attacks, I continue to feel it. I let some of this out on my son yesterday, and I owe him an apology. He didn’t deserve that.
I’m angry that we responded to this attack by fighting back on the terrorists terms, instead of by using the best of what America has. We’ve corrected that a little, with the use of unmanned drones and the like. But we still fight them on their turf, on their terms.
The rantings of one person does no good, though.
So, I did what I could do. I cooked pork barbecue, and I cleaned my guns and did an ammo inventory. I didn’t get a chance to shoot, thanks to the length of time it takes to cook good barbecue.
But I enjoyed what I could. And for that, I am thankful.