Saturday, September 11, 2004
Our Saddest Day
I am not quite old enough to remember when three good men were cut down in the 1960's.
I was still too young when earthlings stepped onto the lunar surface.
I was a college junior studying engineering when the first space shuttle disaster occurred. It was more of a Dilbert primer in the triumph of unethical management than a personal loss.
Then came September 11, 2001.
As the towers crumbled, one after the other, it felt more like I was watching a video game than a national tragedy. But during the three years since those attacks, I have felt an ever deepening wound.
Becoming a father 14 months ago probably has something to do with my sorrow. Seeing a happy daughter who believes that an empty sippie cup is one of life's great injustices reminds me that she has an innocence that none of us will ever know again. I look at Sarah knowing she will grow up in a less safe and crueler world than I did, and I grieve the true injustices that she will witness and experience.
I continue to feel a sadness that is difficult to understand and express. I had no personal connection to the attacks, but they feel deeply personal. Of all the stories and accounts I have read about 9/11 and its aftermath, the most poignant I have seen is a series of four columns written by Ed Cone.
9/11 was deeply personal to Ed immediately. Thank you, Ed, for finding the strength and words to describe something so personal to you, and to me.
I was still too young when earthlings stepped onto the lunar surface.
I was a college junior studying engineering when the first space shuttle disaster occurred. It was more of a Dilbert primer in the triumph of unethical management than a personal loss.
Then came September 11, 2001.
As the towers crumbled, one after the other, it felt more like I was watching a video game than a national tragedy. But during the three years since those attacks, I have felt an ever deepening wound.
Becoming a father 14 months ago probably has something to do with my sorrow. Seeing a happy daughter who believes that an empty sippie cup is one of life's great injustices reminds me that she has an innocence that none of us will ever know again. I look at Sarah knowing she will grow up in a less safe and crueler world than I did, and I grieve the true injustices that she will witness and experience.
I continue to feel a sadness that is difficult to understand and express. I had no personal connection to the attacks, but they feel deeply personal. Of all the stories and accounts I have read about 9/11 and its aftermath, the most poignant I have seen is a series of four columns written by Ed Cone.
9/11 was deeply personal to Ed immediately. Thank you, Ed, for finding the strength and words to describe something so personal to you, and to me.
