Gorgeous weather, just like that day 12 years ago. Small specks of rust starting on the foliage, sun shines, wind is down. And underneath the brilliance of this early Fall day is the mushroom-shaped cloud, the flames, the horrible whitish-grey dust and the crumbling towers.
We are here now, and they are gone. I breath the air today and feel every morsel of it traveling down my lungs, I feel contraction of my muscles, the sun on my hair: I am alive, and they are gone. My senses are sharpened today, as if a thin film of dullness has been lifted.
I thought I’ll never forget even smallest details of that day; that every moment is etched in my brain forever. Yet I’ve discovered some things already slipped my memory: for instance, I totally forgot that 9/11 was scheduled Primaries for Mayoral election and it was Bill de Blasio vs. M. Bloomberg (same de Blasio is now the Dem’s candidate for current Mayoral race seeking to take over the same M. Bloomberg – isn’t that a perfect example of Marx’s quote about repetition of history?)
Memory is a tight-weave colander.
To remind yourself of what it is we are against, names that used to make headlines, the consequences that already happened, what we might expect in the near future – go read Jordan Bassior’s article Twelve Years and One Year After. We are not out of the darkness of that sunny day, we might be deeper in it than we think.
[photos taken from Stuyvesant H.S. October 9th, 2001. Click to enlarge.]