Remembering
September 11 was marked this year with memorials held across the country and, yet, there appeared to be less news coverage than in previous years. Hurricanes Harvey and Irma dominated the news along with the earthquake in Mexico, leaving 9-11 remembrances and many other important stories – the Rohingya Muslim’s exile from Myanmar, the “grand finale” and accomplishments of Cassini, DACA and North Korea, to name a few – in the shadows.
And then there were the stories closest to home, the tears to celebrate life and loss down the street, next door and in our families that was overshadowed by the big(ger) news of the day.
Such is the inevitable shifting of news and history as the flashes of now rise to the top and the life, and losses, that marked earlier years and earlier generations’ triumphs, catastrophes and sacrifices risk being forgotten.
In the case of 9-11, the most visible reminder is what is gone – the buildings, and the 2,977 people known to have died as a result of the attacks. Less visible to many are the more intimate reminders. The vast network of connections to the victims, to the thousands of first responders, to the aftermath and to the lingering legacy of loss that people live with every day, threads cut.
For those who experience loss closer to home, there are no architect-designed public memorials to serve as reminders, just ghost bikes and roadside flowers that remain (if only as ruins) to remind us of the places, to mark these losses of loved ones. No holes in the ground into which we can step and be consumed by the past. There is only the lingering micro-grief that haunts us daily, experienced by those in the inner circle of grief first and diminishing in the outer rings.
Still, the events of 9-11 were different. They turned a national and world event into something personal. It became, instantly, an event that hit close to home, even for those who were far away. And it is this feeling of a neighborhood connection that often leaves the largest holes and most lasting, inescapable memories.
Recent storms have again resulted in rally cries of community, of rebuilding, as have terrorist attacks around the world. Like a spider clinging to its imperfect web in the aftermath of a storm, there is already talk of rebuilding, of starting new – all we can do is move forward from where we are. Yet, there are no shortcuts, and time is too short to heal all. Some scars remain.
For some there are the physical constructions and the annual remembrances tied to major catastrophe, and others nearby to share in the grief. Others grieve alone, in the privacy of their homes. The stones of our passing, the roadside reminders and memorials will sink into the earth and be replaced. What remains is the loss, the hole where once there was something more.
Remembering to not forget the larger tragedies of our collective pasts provides an historical base that allows for forward thinking and change. If we forget the past attacks, past wars, past injustices and past triumphs over inequities, then we risk repeating the same mistakes again and again and again. Perhaps such a re-firing of history’s follies is inevitable – let us hope not
D.E. Bentley
Editor, Owl Light News