One of the difficult things about being joyfully busy is the struggle to have some introspective time of reflection. Today marks 15 years ago when, for a good portion of my generation, our experience in the world changed. Ten years ago I reflected upon the new world under the lens of an active duty soldier stationed overseas. In those conditions it was unmistakeable to myself and those around me, that our lives were certainly different. Tonight I reflect upon how that day of infamy has rippled through this life. Much has happened between these two points of reflection. Although it took longer than I expected, I finally did get to go to war as a soldier. Then as life would have it and providence continued, I would go back to war.
I recall the night we received news about the death of Bin Laden. There was buzz on the classified chat channels that something big happened but we had no idea. My spidey senses convinced the cafeteria staff to change the TV channel to news and I got to witness with everyone else that night the President’s address. It meant something different sitting less than two miles from where that fateful day was planned. Killing the instigator of this new reality did not return us to the world we knew before. That has long since past and cannot be recovered, there is only moving forward.
I have been considering what was so uniquely remarkable about that day. It was not the first time we had been attacked by overseas terrorists in New York. It was not the first time a building was attacked on our soil in our memory. It was far from the first time we had been attacked by people of Islamist ideology. It was the largest coordinated attack with the most devastating results in our history. I have not talked to someone who lived through the attack on Pearl Harbor to describe what the effect was. That was a deliberate act of war by a uniformed nation. This was a cowardly hijacking using civilian aircraft to destroy civilian and military targets.
We experienced this. Many of us watched on live television as the second plane struck the North Tower. Even more of us watched as the two towers collapsed. For weeks those images were replayed countless times on television. We rallied around the flag proclaiming in earnest, “We Will Not Forget!” We invaded Afghanistan and on the coattails of “Never Again” we invaded Iraq. We had to be proactive about this threat we mistakenly thought to be malignant. We struck back and exerted the full force of the United States of America on anyone who dared to threaten us again. Such force had not been displayed in the world’s view since we landed on the beaches of Normandy and dropped the world’s most terrible weapons many decades ago.
15 years of war later, the resolve we began that had such a powerful undertaking has been… strained to say the least. We will have to come to terms that Afghanistan will incorporate the Taliban in their government if they are to ever stop fighting. We have been almost idly sat and watched as ISIS has ripped through Iraq and Syria proudly displaying to the world the fruit of their ideology. For many of us we must be cautious where we utter “radical Islamic terror” so as to not offend people who cannot tell the difference between religious ideologies. We have watched domestic turmoil divide us by political party, race, education, economic status, religion, even patriotism. We find ourselves in a nation full of people longing for heaven on earth who lash out at others in numerous fashions because it is not. We cannot even agree on our own identity let alone who we are as a nation. Who should we be? We used to be a nation that sought “to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity”. But those are words from old white men who were unenlightened and guilty of some of the most grievous sins of the 21st century in their antiquated 18th century ways and thoughts. Or at least that is how the Founding documents are often treated if given some mind at all.
I cannot help but think back to littlun Percival Wemys Madison. At the beginning of the story he knew his name and address. Repeating such were his refuge and comfort in considerably traumatic times, by the conclusion of the book, he forgot everything, even his own name. This is not to say our reactions to the attack were acts of innocence and our disenfranchisement of those ventures has been our maturing. We certainly started those wars with the passionate fervor of justice. The hope was that such acts were to fulfill the duty of our government to protect ourselves. Even this understanding is under considerable scrutiny. I fear if we do not remember who we were, first as people, then as a nation, what was lost those 15 years ago will only be a shadow of forgotten memories.
