We Said We Would Never Forget, but 25 Years After 9/11 We Have Forgotten How to Be United
By: Garrett Mitchell, Staff Writer
garrett@thewoodrufftimes.com
We said we would never forget. Maybe we haven’t, but maybe we have forgotten what it means to be united.
On Sept. 11, 2001, and in the months that followed, we were. Yet, somehow, we have lost our way.
Those of us who were old enough to remember that day still know exactly where we were and what we were doing when the news first broke that an airliner, American Airlines Flight 11, had struck the North Tower of the World Trade Center at 8:46 a.m. Then, we watched.
We watched as United Airlines Flight 175 ripped through the South Tower at 9:03 a.m. We watched American Airlines Flight 77 tear through the Pentagon at 9:37 a.m. We saw the Twin Towers fall. We watched news reports about a fourth plane, United Airlines Flight 93, that never made it to its intended target—likely the United States Capitol—because it had crashed in a field near Shanksville, Pennsylvania.
We watched. We learned. We grieved. Then, we got to work. Together.
For my generation, it was our Pearl Harbor. It was our evil that had to be confronted, our way of life that had been threatened and our job to band together and shout to the world that we would not go quietly into the night.
As the black smoke billowed high into the brilliantly blue New York sky on that Tuesday morning, we, as a nation, stood as one in the face of unimaginable heartbreak and destruction.
Sept. 11, 2001, saw 2,977 beautiful souls taken from us. Heroes were born from ordinary people who did extraordinary things. The very best of us shone through. Yet, somehow, 25 years later, we have forgotten what that looks like.
Sure, we remember. We hold ceremonies, dedicate memorials and continue to eulogize those who sacrificed themselves to save others, but our actions as a country today do not live up to the standard they set.
What would they think?
I can close my eyes right now and go back to that day, walking down the halls of Woodruff High School, a 16-year-old kid who did not understand the gravity of what had taken place. It was the silence that was deafening. Never have 800 students been so profoundly quiet all at once.
We were living a history that required from us an attempt at processing a tragedy beyond what our youthful naivety would allow. Yet, we had to try.
Then, we came together.
A nation whose heart had been ripped clear of its collective chest came together as one, and together, we sutured the wound closed. We comforted each other, prayed with our neighbors and prayed for those who lost their lives. For once, the petty differences that pit us against each other were forgotten.
Where did we go wrong?
We saw what unity looked like and how it could inspire such great things. Then, somewhere along the way, we slipped back into a purgatory of status quo. Today, two and a half decades removed, we are far more polarized than we were before 9/11.
If the heroes from that day were still here, what would they say to us? Would they question why they had to die in defense of what they knew was good and right, only to see their ultimate sacrifice blithely pushed into the background by a vitriolic society?
We know their names now. The police officers of the NYPD. The firefighters of the FDNY. The men and women who rushed into the Twin Towers to save others, knowing they likely would never come back out again.
Welles Crowther, the “Man in the Red Bandana,” was a 24-year-old stock trader who was about to quit his job to follow his dream of becoming a firefighter. He saved 18 lives that day by carrying people down 17 flights of stairs in the South Tower. He went back. Again and again. His body was not found in the rubble until six months later.
When he found a group of survivors huddled together on the 78th floor, according to those he saved, he simply said:
“Everyone who can stand, stand now. If you can help others, do so.”
They listened to Welles. They worked together. They helped one another. And they lived.
Todd Beamer, a passenger on United Airlines Flight 93, led his fellow passengers in a heroic revolt that ended in a Pennsylvania field rather than the heart of our nation’s capital.
Beamer, Jeremy Glick, Mark Bingham, Tom Burnett, flight attendant CeeCee Lyles and others on the plane learned about the World Trade Center and the Pentagon in midair. They knew their fate, and yet they chose, in their final moments, to work together to make sure others did not suffer the same.
Todd, while connected with Airfone supervisor Lisa Jefferson, led his fellow passengers in the Lord’s Prayer and Psalm 23.
“But deliver us from evil, for thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, forever and ever. Amen.”
Amen. It is a word that translates to “let it be so.”
Beamer then said the words that became synonymous with the American spirit that arose from that awful day.
“Are you ready? OK. Let’s roll!”
One of the last things heard on the cockpit voice recorder from United Flight 93 was the hijacker at the controls screaming repeatedly, “Give it to me! Give it to me!”
Another voice, in clear American English, said, “Pull it up!”
I believe to this day that Beamer, Glick, Bingham and the others who fought back had breached the cockpit. I believe they touched the controls of that plane. If only they had more time.
Time is a subjective thing. We have it, and those who died that day do not. They died teaching us how to come together. To trust one another. Their lesson was heeded well for a while, until it wasn’t.
We learned that day what it meant to be torn apart, to pick each other up and to work together for a common goal. The heroes of 9/11 showed us all how to do that. It is time we pay that lesson forward.
I sometimes shake my head at the fact that today’s high school seniors would not be born for another seven years when our country was brought to its knees and rose again. My classmates from that day are now the parents of those young men and women who know what happened only through stories and textbooks.
Their generation sees the worst of us. We saw the best. We must teach them what that looks like because, if we don’t, simply saying “Never forget” will become a shallow platitude used to placate our own conscience.
This country deserves better. Our children deserve better. Welles, Todd, Jeremy, Mark, CeeCee, every first responder and every soul we lost that day deserve better from us.
We went to work 25 years ago. It is time to go to work again.
Let it be so.
Let’s roll!
