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My colleague was in the subway below the World Trade Center when the first plane hit at 8:46 on September 11th a year ago. She walked up the stairs to the street just as the second plane hit. She heard the boom, looked up at the flaming towers, saw falling bodies — and shuddered. A wave of heat descended on her and she ran - ran to safety before the buildings came down. |
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Bill Moyers
on Remembering September 11
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For two months she sat at the window of her apartment, paralyzed by fear. The sound of a plane would take her back to that day, as if had been the beginning of the world coming to an end. A year later she still has nightmares, still sees - in the poet's prophetic metaphor - "the great dark birds of history" that plunged into our lives.
She's not alone. No matter where we live today, we live at ground zero. Sitting at our window we wonder what's next; we walk looking over our shoulder, nervously. This is what terrorists want. They aim to possess our psyche, pillage our peace of mind, deprive us of trust and confidence - and keep us from ever again believing in a safe, decent, or just world, from working to bring it about. This is their real target - to turn each and every imagination into a personal Afghanistan, a private hell, where they can rule by fear, as the Taliban did.
They win only if we let them; only if we become like them: vengeful, imperious, intolerant, paranoid, invoking a God of wrath. Having lost faith in themselves, they have nothing left but a holy cause. They win, if we become holy warriors, too; if in trying to save democracy, we destroy it; if we strike first, murdering innocent people as they did; if we show contempt for how others see us; exploit patriotism to increase privilege; confuse power for the law, secrecy for security; and if we permit our leaders to use our fear of terrorism to make us afraid of the truth.
What, then, can I say to my colleague, to myself, to all of us who survivors, tempted to keep sitting there, in the chair by the window. Just this: we are vulnerable - not only to the fear of them but to our own shaken faith. And this, remember not only the terror but the beauty revealed that day — when through the smoke and fire we glimpsed the humankindness - the heroism, sacrifice, and compassion - of ordinary people who did the best of things in the worst of times. I say — this beauty in us is real. It makes democracy possible, and no terrorist can take it from us. Remembering this, one year later, we can praise the mutilated world and get on with our work. Democracy is our work, and there is much to do - if we are to keep it.
For NOW, I'm Bill Moyers.
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September 11 Then and Now
Steven Brill on his book AFTER
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