On Sept. 11, 2001, the world came face to face with a catastrophe that would turn it upside down forever. There would be no going back. The United States was stripped of an innocence it didn’t even know it had — the luxury of a mostly terrorist-free existence where people could board a flight in a matter of minutes and go about their workdays in offices in central Manhattan without a singular thought of it being their last day on this earth. Terrorism as a whole introduced itself on a worldwide scale after this monumental day, shaking everyone with the constant threat of the loss of more innocent lives on any ordinary day.
Tuesday marked the anniversary of this atrocious tragedy that continues to plague the loved ones of the 2,977 people killed as a result of the four U.S. commercial airplanes destined to obliterate what most represented Western pursuits of freedom. Not only were the families left behind affected, but so was the weeping nation that once prided itself in American glory — 343 New York City firefighters and 60 total police officers sacrificed their lives. Those who perished ranged from ages two to 85 years old. Unknowing passengers of the hijacked planes lost their lives in the blink of an eye, never knowing why.
Whenever an atrocious massacre occurs, we turn to the phrase “never forget.” But what does this truly mean? Seventeen years ago, our country was united by the horrors of 9/11, eliciting a unique kind of patriotism that wasn’t nearly as tangible as it is now. Once a year, we grieve as a nation, commemorating the tremendous impact this event left lingering behind and honoring those who were brave enough to risk their lives, as well as the thousands stolen. Although this leads me to think: why can’t we be united outside of tragedy? It seems to me that devastation is needed to bring people together, far more frequently than happiness, and the only explanation I can come up with to understand this pattern is the human condition. We are internally wired this way. Tragedy leaves a much more lasting imprint than celebration.
“Never forget” those who were robbed of living to their full potential, the sadness that has eternally changed those remaining and how we can protect ourselves by doing better and knowing better to prevent a massacre like this from ever repeating itself again. Similarly, the words “never forget” are engraved into the identity of those with Jewish heritage, after the massacre of 6 million of us — the Holocaust — bound together the Jewish people like never before. The State of Israel, the coveted homeland providing a safe haven for a people who never knew a true home, might not have existed if the overwhelming sense of Jewish nationalism wasn’t so strong after the Holocaust. In this sense, the words “never forget” have transformed into the means of everyday existence for the Jewish people, shaping a cohesive modern identity. Never again in history will the Jews be victims of hate and persecution.
9/11 surely enforced the stabilization of U.S. security to an extreme, forcing us to prioritize safety before anything else on a daily basis, but it upsets me that often we come together as a people to commemorate such tragedies only on their anniversaries. I wish there was a way we could unite as a community every day, every week or even every month or so. We should at least just take some time daily — a few minutes even — to think and remember. With the ending of the Jewish holiday Rosh Hashanah, the celebration of the Jewish New Year, the next holiday to follow in conjunction is Yom Kippur, the day of atonement. Once a year, Jews unite in a 24-hourlong fast to repent their sins from the past year and start fresh, in order to be written in the Book of Life for the upcoming year. It is another example of a yearly ceremony reminding us to be more aware and setting us on the path of improvement, yet it is a strange concept to sustain remembrance and a sense of awareness on days that are not Yom Kippur.
While the tremendous efforts we take to pay tribute to 9/11 on its yearly anniversary are incredible and worth acknowledging, I still believe it is important to maintain its memory in our thoughts more often than once a year. After all, the people directly affected by 9/11 are reminded each and every day.
Coffee is my lifeline, every morning, afternoon and night—and occasionally in between. Find me café hopping with my nose buried in a book and a cappuccino by my side for good company. I’ll never pass up a chance to explore this adventure-packed city and its unique, bustling yet mellow culture.
