A New Holy Day of Remembrance

Nineteen terrorists gave Americans a new Holy Day of remembrance twenty years ago today. Perhaps the many observances are too much for you; no need to read this one, in that case.

Every program I hear on the radio asks the commentators where they were that morning, so I’ll ask you to think of your answer as I share mine – getting a haircut. The radio was on to some music station and I heard the announcer say that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center, and that was OK because there were a lot of emergency personnel already there. Or something like that. Didn’t make sense.

By the time I left I had some idea of what had happened. Before I got the subway I called a friend whose birthday it was, and told him to turn on the TV – there was a reason he couldn’t place an international call.

I continued to school – Temple University – and held my morning class. I remember one student who came in horrified that six thousand had been killed. I remember nothing else of the discussion except that afterwards I couldn’t find a TV. I cancelled my afternoon class; the building was emptying out and I didn’t really want to deal with the mourning that was overwhelming everything.

I didn’t have an operating TV at home, either. (The first time I saw a moving image was years later on the tape of Fahrenheit 9/11, the movie by Michael Moore given me by Judy Heffernan. This blog’s for you, Judy.) I knew I was seeking ritual so I went to a service at the large fundamentalist church on my block. I left as people were speaking about the vengeance of God because of America’s sins.

That was not how I felt. I had driven to New York to attend the wedding of a former student the Sunday before; it was a similar brilliant sunny day with the towers so stunning on the skyline. I could not imagine that they were gone and that terrorists had disrupted this perfect picture.

How did you feel that day? What did you do? Did you seek out ritual? Do you now?

My actual memories seem fragmented and superficial. I could go on and on about subsequent events – the Call to Action regional conference in Philadelphia the following weekend, for example – but I won’t. All of us have elaborated over our initial responses with better information and remarkable images. Most affecting for me this week has been the third episode of the Spike Lee film on HBO, NYC Epicenters 9/11-> 2021½. I had never seen the huge cloud that rolled down the street like a flood as the tower collapsed, people running ahead of it. The documentary juxtaposes images from that day with interviews of survivors today. Their memories are not superficial, and their grief allows us to experience our own losses in theirs. That’s what happens to me, anyway.

I also wonder where those students are today, in their forties now and remembering this crucial event in their senior year. How has it affected their lives? As it turned out, the initial numbers were wrong. Only 2,977. Only. Part of the emotion this twentieth anniversary is the juxtaposition with the end of the Afghanistan war. As of the end of April, 2,448 US service members died in that war, and we know there have been more. The Brown University Costs of War Project estimates that over 7,000 US soldiers have died in all the wars since 9/11: Afghanistan, Pakistan, Iraq, Syria, Libya, Yemen, Somalia and the Philippines. More than 801,000 if all deaths due to “war violence” from these related conflicts are included.

Does this bring to mind another number? 653,216 US COVID deaths were reported earlier this week, and that number has climbed since I wrote this. How large will the number become and when will we call this pandemic over? The worldwide total is now 4,614,179, but how do we actually know either number, really? It will take years.

Sometimes it feels as if we are surrounded by death: gun violence in our cities, dreadful diagnoses for our friends and sometimes ourselves. But right now we are the survivors, and we go on amidst our insecurities and sadness, and we search our faith for reconciliation and joy. Are you expecting the liturgy you attend this weekend to memorialize this American Holy Day? I am.