I didn't see much footage at all of September 11. Not on that day or the following days, weeks, months, years to follow. On that day, and that week following, my then-boyfriend and I were on vacation and for the most part we weren't near a tv. For a bit on that day, we saw some tv footage; I remember having a hard time watching. I knew people were jumping from the Twin Towers and I was afraid I'd see them, so I avoided looking. Then, we were on the road, listening to the radio. Eventually, at our destination, we had a tv but it only had bunny ears and could only pick up the audio. So we listened. We listened to Peter Jennings on and off for days. We made phone calls to check on loved ones and wondered at how quiet the airspace was as no airplanes were flying. Frankly, I was grateful we were isolated.
Over the years, on the anniversary, I have continued to avoid any footage. I've been too wary; I'd caution myself against gathering any unshakable memories. Sure, I'd read and seen some specials about more oblique subjects such as memorials, or where-they-are-now pieces. But images I've been avoiding. I told myself that one day I would sit down and watch something - a documentary perhaps - so I could join the rest of my fellow Americans in these visual memories. Its hard to avoid, year after year.
Today, this evening, just a bit ago, I turned on the tv. I don't normally do that, but we do have cable now, again, because of - duh - football. (go Hawks) I was going to watch Jeopardy because I'm a dork. But it opened to the History Channel, deep into a minute-by-minute special about the terrifying demise of the World Trade Center. And I was engulfed. I froze. I watched the whole thing. And then the following thing about some New Yorkers and their personal footage from that morning. And now we're watching a special about some firefighters who survived the collapse of the second tower. And its hard damn work to watch. But I'm not going back. And I feel so very badly that it took me this long.
Wes has joined me. Buck is bouncing around, trying to get our attention, but I'm determined to take this in. I pull out a Curious George board game to play with him, his back to the tv. For a moment, I feel parental guilt about my screen time competing with Buck's attention, but then, whatever. This morning on cnn.com I read a piece about a woman who lives in Greenwich Village and who reported from Ground Zero that day. She has a 2nd grader now and she is trying to find a way to convey the story/history of this horrible thing to a child. How to talk about bad guys and scariness and how to remember the departed, how to inform the future. Maybe that essay galvanized my intentions tonight. Brazenly, I kinda don't care if Buck sees the screen.
Buck gets bored with us. He's doing his own thing elsewhere. I'm taking it all in on the television, trying to make up for something. Those poor people. Their absurd, heartbreaking fate. I'm so sorry.