Less than an hour after the plane hit the south tower, it collapsed on live TV, as millions of us watched, helpless, and perhaps unbelieving. It seemed absurd to me, but Tom Brokaw (or was it Peter Jennings we were watching in the cafeteria at work?) was saying things along the lines of "We're not sure what we're seeing here. There's a lot of smoke, but something appears to have just happened."
A few mornings later, there were still no civilian flights in the entire US, and I just happened to be standing atop a monument on a hill overlooking Boston when I heard two F15s fly overhead, and looked up in time to catch the fly-by as they passed on patrol.
Three nights later, a group of friends got together to belatedly celebrate the birthday of the one of us who had actually been flying that morning. His birthday had been — and always will be — the 11th. Only now that fact suddenly seemed unfortunate and unlucky, and we were keen to show him the love. We had a pot luck dinner and lit candles and talked. The Gurgling Cod outdid himself with an au gratin potatoes baked in a skillet lined with bacon. It was the pinnacle of comfort food; a pound-for-pound champion of bad cholesterol and good healing.
And a night after that, AKL and I saw Sonny Rollins play one of the best live shows I have ever seen.
Ten days later, AKL and I flew from Boston to LA for a friend's wedding. BOS > LAX was the route of two planes used in the attacks that day. Security at Logan was extreme. Tons of police, national guard, Army. Guys in jackboots with grenade launchers. God bless them, but I have no idea what purpose they thought the grenade launchers might serve in an area of so many civilians.
But the world was a new and scary place then and no one knew quite how to deal with it.
On the plane, I had an aisle seat, and — aside from takeoff and landing — I left my seatbelt unbuckled. If, I supposed, I saw anyone moving toward the cockpit or acting strange, they were going to be checked hard into the next row of seats as they tried to walk past me.
At LAX, when we landed, things looked no different from what I imagine they did on September 10th. The difference between the two airports could not have been any more staggering.
When we went back to LAX that Sunday for our return flight to Logan, there was an orthodox Jew across from us in the gate area — the beard, the robe, the tefillin, the whole works — quietly saying prayers and davening. I too prayed — a less observant Jew, but observant nonetheless — that he would not be on our flight. My reasoning was simple: If I was an Arab terrorist, what disguise would be better than that of an orthodox Jew?
Three and a half weeks later, AKL and I got married. It was the happiest day of my life.
I had smiled so many fake smiles for pictures to that point that I literally never knew I had dimples. But this was a day of genuine and unadulterated joy and beauty, friendship and love and wonder. And the photographs bore it out.
When we took the microphone to say a few words and thank our guests for coming such a long way and under such circumstances, I said something to the effect that "We need to keep doing what we do; keep having fun. Because we are all the foot soldiers of this new war, and to not continue living our lives as we otherwise would is to allow the idiots the win."
A few months later, I painted for the first time since the attacks. It helped. It looked like this:
All those windows.
And now.
Ten years later, as most of us are, I am still so moved by the events of that single day and its aftermath. I am tired of the anniversary programs and editions and the "What did it all mean?" And yet I feel compelled to write about it. To scare it up again, explore my own feelings, and slowly piece together the memories.
I scored a C+ grade in the whole Kübler-Ross thing, skipping the first stage of grief entirely. I've tried denial for many things in my life, but in this instance, with the news anchors fumbling, as the first tower collapsed, the impact was immediate for me. I understood full well exactly what I was seeing.
And that I was watching thousands die. And that it was the single worst thing I have ever seen.
Thank god I have seen no worse since.
