I was vacationing in Barcelona with my family when the attack happened. When we heard about it, we all (my parents and my aunt and uncle from my dad’s side of the family) hurried back to our hotel and huddled in my parents room, watching the same reports of the attack, over and over. We saw the second tower come down as it happened. We watched endless loops of the two planes gliding into the towers. We emptied the mini-bar, and made good progress on the one in my uncle’s room. We made bad jokes about it, trying to get a handle on what we were seeing. I don’t think any of us cried, at least not in front of each other; we’re not a hugely emotive family. I know I stayed dry-eyed, at least. Finally, when we couldn’t stand it any more, we went out to dinner. While we were waiting for our food, an English couple approached us and offered their condolences. They were the first of a great many total strangers who reached out to us, sharing their compassion and regret over the terrible wound we had received.
The next day, we walked down La Rambla, surrounded by people who were going on with their lives, largely unconcerned about the destruction that had happened an ocean away. They cared, no question about it, but it was a distant thing, that had happened to someone else. While everyone back home was being swept up in this maelstorm of horror and grief and fear, we were reminded that, as bad as the attacks had been, life would go on. Still, every now and then, someone would hear our accents and say something. “I’m very sorry for what happened.” “We’re praying for you.” “You’re not alone.” When we reached the end of the street, when we reached the sea, we could see the old fort on the hill overlooking the harbor. The flags were all at half mast. At the end, it was this sight that finally got me. Not the footage of the attack itself, not the images of people running down the street ahead of the titanic wall of dust and debris as the towers came down, not the mangled corpses or the people desperatly looking for loved ones who had been in the tower. All of that, I had watched mostly unmoved. I always knew that people could be evil. But for some reason, it was that simple gesture, a foreign flag at half mast in honor of strangers half a world away, that made me start crying. I already knew about the evil, but sometimes I forget how good people can be, too.
I never watched much of the TV coverage of the attacks last year, and I’m not sure that I should this year. Saw enough in the newspaper and in the TV news in the ensuing days and weeks afterwards. I don’t know how I’m going to feel tomorrow, as it’s the anniversary of a terrible day in history. Heck, even now I’m getting a bit nervous as to what my actual feelings will be. But I plan to go on much as normal, as I did last year. Maybe go to church.
But thanks, guys. You’ve made a special meaningful committment to your friends in the US, and especially the people in New York. I salute and respect you for it.
Thank you, to reprise and Goo and all of the Australian and Canadian Dopers who’ve posted in this thread. I’ve been avoiding television all day so far, concentrating on just the internet, so as to keep from crumpling up into a big ball of tears like I did last year around this time. After reading this thread, I’m crying anyway. I started when Bullwyf wrote that the scariest thing about that day was not knowing what else was going to happen. And it all came rushing back to me. I was hundreds of miles from both NYC and DC, but only about 60 miles from Shanksville, where 93 went down. I knew the idea that anyone would even consider a fourth-rate city in rural Pennsylvania a valid or likely target for terrorism was ridiculous. But I think relatively few people were thinking rationally that day.
So, yes, I’m crying, on the first anniversary of that day. But while some of it is caused by memories of what happened, most of it is caused by the kindness and caring you’ve shown. And I’d rather cry because I was moved by kindness and caring than cry because of tragedy and pain.
Hello all, I want to thank everyone for their support. I’ve been singing this song to myself all day today. I especially like Ray Charles version. This is not only for US it is for any of you who love liberty and grace, enjoy!
Oh beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain.
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee,
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea.
Oh beautiful for pilgrim feet
Whose stern impassioned stress.
A thoroughfare of freedom beat
Across the wilderness.
America! America!
God mend thine ev’ry flaw,
Confirm thy soul in self-control,
Thy libert in law.
Oh beautiful for heroes proved
in liberating strife
Who more than self their country loved,
and mercy more than life
America! America! May God thy gold refine
Till all success be nobleness, And ev’ry gain divine
Oh beautiful for patriot dream
That sees beyond the years.
Thine alabaster cities gleam
Undimmed by human tears.
America! America! God shed his grace on thee,
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea.
While I realize we are far from perfect, this song embraces the thoughts and hopes of many of us. We aspire to human rights and recognize our faults. One day, I hope we can all realize this vision of freedom and brotherhood throughout the world. Until then…Peace…
