I remember exactly where I was six years ago. I can’t tell you if I ate breakfast or lunch that day, and I can’t tell you who went and posted a note on the door of the classroom where I was supposed to be teaching a law school orientation that morning. I can tell you that I didn’t leave the sofa for hours, but I must have taken a shower at some point, and I must also have gone to school at some time that day.
I was excited about the release of a new Robert Earl Keen record scheduled for that day, as well as the continuation of a two-part Friends episode in syndication. I didn’t get either that day, and I’ve still never seen that Friends episode.
That’s about the worst I can say about what happened to me on September 11, 2001. Everyone I knew in New York and Washington was safe, and a few were even heroic. I was just sitting at home. So were the vast majority of Americans.
I keep hearing that “9/11 changed everything,” and America today certainly seems different than how I remember the first three quarters of 2001. But this particular mantra has always seemed to be more of a way to avoid a discussion than a useful observation.
A blog post and video by someone else, as usual, summarizes my feelings better than I could.
Why has this one 24-hour period come to define this country to the exclusion of anything else? I am somewhat a student of history, and I am not familiar with anyone, six years later, claiming that 12/7 changed everything. Yet Pearl Harbor took almost as many lives as 9/11. This date doesn’t define America for me.
